Outcast
by miarae
Summary: Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can’t seem to get the hang of it. RonHermione. [Warning: deals with selfharm]
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Couples:** Ron/Hermione (yes! My very first R/H fanfic! I'm a big D/H fan, but after seeing the 3rd HP movie again I just couldn't resist)

**Disclaimer:** I own all the Harry Potter movies, but that's all. Too bad.

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Hermione looked around the Great Hall, her eyes meeting the gaze of people she once considered her friends. They seemed to look straight through her now. A shiver ran down her spine as she noticed it. She averted her eyes and tried to find an empty seat. They were all taken.

She bit her lip, her hands firmly clutched around her robes, trying to look like it didn't matter to her. Thoughts whirled around in her head. Memories of a time in which she felt happy, accepted. A time in which she was judged by her character, not her looks.

Hermione Granger wasn't the prettiest witch around, that much was sure. It was one of the reasons she was always complimented about being so smart. Most guys barely acknowledged her, only speaking to her when they needed something done. In her sixth year, she was Gryffindor Prefect, the smartest witch Hogwarts had had in many years, and so alone.

She had never had many friends, even before she went to Hogwarts. Girls never bothered to hang out with her, because she wasn't interested in the things they cared about. When she had gone to Hogwarts she had hung out a bit with some girls, but they always turned out to be boring after a while. All they cared about was make-up and guys. Even Ginny, the one girl she had thought to be a real friend, let her down in the end.

Of course she had still been happy. There were two guys that were her friends and she thought that they would never let each other down. Harry and Ron. After a rough start they had become the bestest of friends, and nothing could end that.

Or so she thought.

Thinking back of the heated argument she had had, the accusations they had thrown at her, she felt her blood beginning to boil again. She could still remember Harry's eyes, the way they had turned from a fiery emerald to ice-cold green. The sound of his harsh words, and the way it had made her want to laugh out because what he was saying was too insane to be true.

But yet he believed it. He believed that Hermione willingly destroyed his relationship with Ginny because she had a crush on him. A crush that was so powerful that she wouldn't allow anybody else to come near her loved one. A crush, that hadn't even existed.

And Ron and Harry had abandoned her. Had broken their friendship and never spoken to her again. Eventually the rumours about her being responsible for Harry's broken heart had spread all through Hogwarts, leaving her more alone than ever imagined possible.

She turned her back to all the people who had started talking softly as soon as she had entered the Great Hall. The last thing she saw were Ginny's eyes, filled with loathing and anger. She bit her lip once more before exiting.

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Wandering through the school she breathed in the atmosphere of peace there always seemed to be whenever the halls were abandoned. She walked through halls and more halls, not bothering to see where she was going. It didn't matter. As long as everybody was in the Great Hall she felt safe here, not so selfconscious as she did in the presence of others. It almost made her feel good about herself. Almost.

She heard a moan and stiffened. Her footsteps came to an abrupt halt but the people in the corner had already seen her.

Ron messed up his hair with one hand and leaned into the wall. In his arm he held Parvati, and they had been making out furiously until Hermione had noticed them.

"What are YOU doing here?"

Parvati questioned in a tone that made it obvious she thought herself to be above Hermione.

"The library is thát way Granger"

Ron added with an oh-so-sweet fake voice.

She didn't bother to answer, quickly slipping past them into the direction she had been heading before. She heard Parvati whisper something about ugly witches and their obsession with books and heard Rons wellknown chuckle before she walked into her bedroom.

It was her own room, because nobody wanted to be her roommate, but she was secretly glad about that. Nobody would ever have to know what she did in her room. Nobody would ever find out as long as she was wearing her robes.

She critically observed her looks in the mirror before suddenly throwing her books at them. The mirror shattered and she took up a piece of glass, holding it in her hand like it was a secret treasure. Then, with another frustrated scream she started attacking her arms, slashing her wrists open time and time again until the carpet seemed to have changed colour. She didn't feel pain. She never did. She only felt loathing, towards the person she had become. She wanted so desperately to be happy, but nobody would let her. Nobody would leave her alone when she wanted to, and when they did leave her alone she craved for them to be there.

She fell down on the floor, the hard wood under the carpet skimming her knees. Teardrops started to fall on the floor, until she hid her face in her hands and sobbed in silence. How could they do this to her? How could they be so cruel? Didn't they understand that she needed someone? Someone who could make this madness stop?

Because she felt like she was going mad. For weeks now, she had stopped eating, stopped caring because it made her feel numb and numb felt oh so good. She had started hurting herself, because if she did want to feel something it had to be there. She had to be able to feel because sometimes the numbness scared her and she just wanted to be happy but happy seemed so out of reach. She was going crazy. And she didn't know how to stop it. She couldn't do it on her own.

**Review please!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Title:** Outcast 

**Summary: **Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer: **Apart from all the movies, all the books and a couple of pictures I own nothing.

**A/N:** Everybody thanks for your sweet reviews!!!

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**PiNkRiBbOn13dancegir**l: Yes I've read all the books, they really are amazing!!!

**Shveta: **I think Ron and Harry could react this way if what happened was serious enough. Besides in the books they have been best friends forever, and real friendship can take little bumps in the road like this. But in my story they have been drifting apart for a while now, so they could react this way.

**Desiree K Troy: **You said _"Have you ever actually been a self-injurer because if so you're missing a lot of important details, if not then you should not be writing about it."._ Well the truth is I actually have been, so I think that gives me the right to write about it. Plus I discovered that the more times you do it the less it takes to hurt yourself. So maybe you think that it wasn't believable, but you have to bear in mind that this has been going on for a long while, and that it doesn't have to take so much for it to happen anymore. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about.

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"I thought you were my friend Hermione! I told you all my secrets and you betrayed me. You lied to me and made me lose the one guy I really loved. God...I knew you were desperate but I'd never have guessed you were _this_ desperate! I never want to be friends with you ever again. Now get out of my sight before I hex you!!!"

Hermione felt tears stinging in her eyes. She simply could not believe that people who had been her friends could let her down so easily. How could they think she would ever hurt them on purpose? Harry had been a _friend_ to her, nothing more. She had tried telling this to Ginny a thousand times but the little redhead had turned out to be as stubborn as her brother.

Ron.

If she had had the heart she would have told everybody that she couldn't have been in love with Harry, because of the simple fact that she was already in love with Ron. Even when he had turned into a player her heart had still beated faster whenever he was around. But because of what he had become she could never tell the truth. He would laugh, if he even _looked_ at her, and he would turn her down because she was simply too hideous to be seen with. So she had swallowed all the cruel things people had said to her, holding on to a truth nobody believed.

But keeping things to herself wasn't as easy as it seemed. Bottling things up inside made her feel awful and she needed something that made her feel better. Less like a bomb that could explode any second. She needed to blow off steam.

The first time she'd done it she had been terrified when the realised what she had done. The blood trickled down her arm in a pace that fascinated her. So calm, so soothing. But yet, so full of life. She had vowed to herself that she would never do it again. She didn't want to be a cutter. She was a smart young witch who didn't need solutions like this to make her feel better. She should be able to get the same satisfaction out of her homework.

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Every day the tauntings got worse and it seemed like the whole school loathed her she felt empty. No, worse, she felt dead. She wanted to feel alive and she remembered how seeing her own blood flow had been able to do that. With a little hesitation she took up the razor, but the echo of todays insults was enough to drive it deep into her arms.

Bitch

They had called her.

Ugly freak.

Good for nothing witch.

Pathetic mudblood.

(That last comment coming from the Slytherins ofcourse)

She recalled the way they'd looked at her. Loathing in their eyes. Disgust in their sneers. Malice in their voices as they whispered to each other all the things they hated about Hermione Granger. They all knew the story, though it greatly differed among the houses. Gryffindors' was worst of course, because the happy couple had been their friends, and it hurt to see them barely speaking to each other.

Maybe things wouldn't have been so bad if it had been two other people. But one of them was Harry Potter, the one who was indirectly responsible for all their lives. The boy who never had let it go to his head though. The boy who wanted and deserved a normal life.

The boy she had screwed it up for. The boy who now hated her. The boy, whose best friend, whom she had had a crush on, was the instigator of this hate-parade.

With a silent sob she drove the razor into her flesh once more.

**Review please!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary: **Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer: **Apart from all the movies, all the books and a couple of pictures I own nothing.

**A/N: **Thanks to all my reviewers but especially to **Vic** who gave me the sweetest review, so this chapter is for you!

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Funny. She felt like she was floating but in reality she was falling. Crashing down, towards the ground. Everything around her had been spinning and she had struggled to keep control, but it had simply been too hard. So now she was falling. People around her started to fade until finally all she saw was his red hair. She smiled. It was all she ever wanted to see. Ever needed to see. Her legs weren't able to carry her anymore and she just allowed herself to fall over. Colours blended, everything around her seemed to swirl, peoples' voices were mixed up and she felt peaceful. In this strange world where everything was jumbled up she felt right at home. But she couldn't fall forever. Some day she would have to reach the ground but for now falling felt nice.

Suddenly the falling stopped. Whisperings penetrated through the fog that seemed to have replaced her brain. Gasps. She realised she was in someone's arms. It felt nice. She felt safe, so safe that she didn't dare to open her eyes. What if she was in the arms of a teacher? She couldn't ever get over the embarrassment if Snape had been the one to break her fall!

"Hermione"

His voice whispered and immediately she recognised whose arms she was in. She belonged in these arms. It almost seemed too good to be true. Wait a minute...it _was_ too good to be true! He would never catch her fall! He would let her drop down to the ground and snicker at the sight of it! He would turn around and he wouldn't be so sweet as to ask her how she was doing and if he could get her a glass of water or something? But yet he did. He really did.

"Are you alright? Can I get you a glass of water or something?"

The whispers reached their peak and then weakened again. She heard feet shuffling, people removing themselves from this unusual scene. She still felt like she was dreaming, and it was a dream she never wanted to wake up from. But she knew she had to. He wouldn't want to waste more time on her than was absolutely necessary. So she opened her eyes, looking at him shyly.

"I...I'm alright..."

_I guess._ She added silently.

He put her back on her feet, but his arms were still around her waist.

"Are you sure? Maybe I should walk you to your room just to be sure..."

Why was he being so sweet? Maybe he was playing a game. Maybe Harry had finally come up with the masterplan to destroy her life all over again. Maybe this was his grand idea to make her realise once and for all that nobody should mess with Harry Potter.

She softly but determinedly pushed his arms off of her. Her eyes didn't dare to travel up to his eyes, so instead she focused them on his robes. She cursed the red blush that was creeping up her cheeks, the only visible proof that there were something more than friendly feelings for him in her heart.

"I'll be okay"

Her voice was still shaking a little. She should have eaten more. She couldn't ever pass out like that again in public. They already knew something was wrong with her, they didn't need more evidence! The urge to hurt herself, punish herself for what she had done, grew stronger with every second that passed in that awkward silence.

"Are you sure? You gave us all quite a scare Hermione"

God, it had been so long since he had spoken her name like that. She felt like crying. She had missed him being this sweet.

Her laugh was scornful.

"I'm sure that's not true Ron"

She realised that not only he had refrained from speaking her name for so long, but that his name hadn't come over her lips since their fight either. It sounded so good to speak his name again. Ron. It made her feel like repeating it over and over again but she didn't want to look even more silly than she already did.

He chuckled, but it wasn't a chuckle out of glee. He wasn't making fun of her, or laughing at her benefit. When she looked up she could see him smiling at her, and although the smile didn't quite reach his eyes it was better than she had hoped for.

"I'll be alright"

When she wanted to walk away he grabbed her wrist and unconsciously she whinged. It had been only hours before that she had cutted herself again, and the wounds hadn't become painresistant like they usually did after a day. She hoped he wouldn't have noticed but one look at his face made her wish turn into smoke.

His face was deadly pale and his fingers trembled slightly. She bit her lip and casted her eyes downwards while he slowly moved her robe upwards to reveal the many red lines running across her wrists. Some were healed, but others were obviously recent. Toadies' cuts seemed to stand out harsh from the others. Her flesh was torn, frayed. She could easily understand why someone would think her to be crazy.

She was scared for his reaction. But he just stared at her wrist, and then at her. And she...she just stared back, not able to come up with any excuse for what he had just discovered.

**Review please!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary: **Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I probably should come up with something original here. Best I can do right now is "no I don't own anything" though. I'll save the good stuff for this chapter (hopefully).

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Chapter 4:

She tried hard to come up with an excuse. _I fell through a window_. What, like repeatedly or something? She could hear his voice in her head, sounding disbelieving and somewhat sarcastic. Besides, if that had happened there would be scratches and scars all over her arms, not just neat little lines. _I just woke up like this one morning_. Ow yeah like that would be so believable. No. No matter how much she tried to, she couldn't come up with a plausible explanation. Other than, I feel so miserable and alone and I love you and so I'm cutting myself, which was the truth, but she would never admit to that.

Instead of speaking she just yanked her arm back, which caused her to whince once more, and hid it safely under her robes where it should have stayed in the first place. It was all covered up now. Nothing to see. Nothing to worry about. She was fine. No better than fine, she was perfect. Wonderful. Oh god she had to run now. Run far far away until he could no longer look at her and see her perfect mask crumbling down until she would be naked in the dark.

He just stood there. Why was he still standing there pretending like he cared? Like it mattered? Why did he look at her with something that vaguely resembled concern? He shouldn't look at her like that. He couldn't look at her like that! It didn't match the emptiness and desolation she felt. It didn't correspond with her world view, a world in which she didn't matter and everybody hated her and had loathing in their eyes whenever they saw her passing by! He couldn't be like this and just defy everything that made her find solace in hurting herself! If it could, then why had she started it in the first place? Hadn't she realised that there was no other way out?! Hadn't she ensured herself that nobody cared?

She had to crawl back. Had to break this enchanting moment and go back to the truth and the time where everything made sense. This didn't, no matter how much she wanted it to. Everybody hated her. Everybody. Ron had been the one to start everything. Ron hated her. He _hated _her. She loved him and he _hated_ her.

It was hardly visible to the outer world, but she shut herself off once again. Ron, who had known her once like no other person had, could see the spark disappearing out of her eyes. He could see her features changing ever so subtly, and her posture slightly slumped. And then she ran. She ran like You-know-who himself was behind her. And god knows why, he wanted to run after her. Find her. Make sure she would be alright.

But he couldn't. Ginny stood there, watching him silently. He couldn't betray his kidsister, whom he had seen crying her eyes out. He couldn't hurt the little girl that had been cradled in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Seeing her, looking so fragile while trying to stay calm, made him remember exactly why he hated Hermione. He tried to recall this intense feeling of anger, tried to hate her like he had done before. He failed. As soon as his anger flared up inside he saw the marks on her arm. Marks he knew he was responsible for. Little cuts she had made with every comment he had thrown her way. Ugly girl. One scar. Little bitch. Another scar. It made him feel like vomiting.

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Hermione sat inside of her room. Watching the mirror she'd fixed with a simple spell. Watching herself, like someone else would have done. Was this how the outside world saw her? A witch, once smart and strong, now crumbled down and crazy? Was this how she would be? She didn't want to be like this. She wanted to be new. Pure. Clean. She wanted the scars to vanish, her memories as well. She wanted to be different. Not like she was before, not like she was now. Not better, not worse, just different. Or maybe she just didn't want to be at all anymore.

Just floating. Floating again like she thought she had been before when she had fallen. She wanted to stop existing, to stop feeling and hurting.

When she looked at herself in the mirror again she noticed a small razor in her hands. A fresh cut on her arm. It scared her. Had she done this? Unconsciously? Was she really this far gone? The blood that trickled down her arm was no longer warm and full of life. It was just blood. Red blood.

She felt empty. If only she could stop feeling empty. Ron had done that. Ron had made her feel alive and warm for just one second. When he had held her, before speaking, she had felt peaceful. Whole. Complete. She wanted to feel whole again.

If only she could ask for his help. If only she could admit to the scars on her arm, that they were a proof of her innocence. If only she could tell him the truth.

If only he would listen.

**Review please!**

**A/N:** I know that sometimes it seems like nothing happens in the chapter, but I want to write a story with a lot of insight into people's emotions and reasons for doing what they do, because I don't think a Hermione-cutting story could function without it. Or any story for that matter. People do what they do for a reason. I could write them sitting in class or whatever, but it wouldn't provide much insight, at least that's what I think. There will be happening more in the next chapters though. As you can see their fixed relationship is starting to change. Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary: **Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy. Why should I want to own Ron and Hermione when I can do stupid stuff with them like this too?

**Please read the following:**

Okay a lot of reviewers have asked me what exactly Hermione had done to break up Harry and Ginny. Truth is, up to last night I had no idea. I hoped people would just accept the fact that she had and focus on the story but alas. I've been emailing with **quidditch7** and together we've come up with what I think is a plausible explanation. If it's not, blame her. No just kidding. I do hope this will not damage the story in any way because I try to write it the best I can.

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The taste of firewhiskey still lingered in her mouth. She stared at the wall as if in a daze. Why had she been remembering this? Or rather, why had her crazy mind come up with something this stupid? Like she'd ever get drunk! Why would she? Back then things had been okay hadn't they? She'd been friends with Harry and Ron and Ginny and lots of people got along with her. Why on earth would she do something as stupid as getting drunk? It could have gotten her expelled!

Still...it gave her the uncomfortable feeling that there was something she'd forgotten. Something she was supposed to know because it was important. Shaking her head she tried to focus on her homework but soon she drifted off again. It was always like that lately. Ever since Ron had been nice to her she couldn't help dreaming about him more and more. Little things could make her think of him. History? She'd remember Ron sleeping in class, looking so cute and relaxed. Polyjuice potion? She'd remember how the three of them spent ages in the bathroom trying to make it, having fun. But she always remembered things she _knew_ that had happened. Why was this time different? Why had she drifted off and come up with something like this?

Unconsciously she had grabbed her wand tighter until her knuckles had turned all white. If there had been any hope whatsoever in her heart that Ron would change now she had been severely mistaken. It seemed like he was trying to make up for the time he had been sweet by being more cruel than ever. Alongside the normal insults he threw at her he now had chosen to call her a slut as well. How could she be a slut if she'd never even kissed someone?

Harry.

She shook her head, trying to get rid of the image that had just displayed in front of her eyes. Why was Harry the one who came to mind as soon as she thought about a kiss? She had always wanted to kiss Ron, hadn't she? Why was Harry...

The firewhiskey.

What if...

No, that was too ridiculous to be even considered. She'd never do that! She'd never get drunk in the first place and if she had she'd never have...

_FLASHBACK_

_Why? Why did this have to happen? Why did it have to be such a public display?_

_Her heart ached. Ron. Her Ron. The one she had been secretly admiring for his courage and his humour ever since the end of fourth year, when he had 'saved' her from some magical creature she surely could have gotten rid of on her own. But he had jumped in front of her, pointed his wand at the ugly creature and made it go away and she had looked at him, seeing him as her hero for the first time. After that day she could never look at him the same way again. Suddenly she realised his hair wasn't that red anymore, and his body had filled out in all the right places, even if it was a cliché thing to say. He'd grown up, become a man, a very handsome man at that. Hermione Granger was in love._

_Of course she'd never said a word about it. Too scared to lose his friendship and too convinced that he'd never look at her in the same way as she looked at him. No, there was no way Ron Weasley would ever consider her to be more than just a friend, a smart witch, a bookworm. They'd fight about homework, about his behaviour, and they'd joke around in the snow or at Hogsmeade, but they were friends. Just friends._

_So why did this hurt so much? Why now? She knew he had been with girls, doing things she secretly wanted him to do to her. She had been crying in her bed, after casting a silencing spell so nobody would hear her break down. But she'd never seen it. Not until today. Not until right now, when she saw those perfect lips touching someone else's, another girl wrapped in his arms like she so desperately wanted to be. A groan, coming from his mouth, elicited by another girl. She felt her heart breaking into little pieces, so small that no matter how much you tried you could never make a solid heart of it again._

_How she managed to do it she didn't know. She kept walking, deliberately slowly, like she couldn't care less. It was part of her perfect façade, the play she put on everyday to hide her true feelings. She even managed a little smile in Ron's direction, as if she wanted so say 'look at them. Young love. So beautiful'. But it wasn't young love. She could have handled young love. She could have handled him having a girlfriend because she would have known he had been happy and there wasn't anything she wanted more than him to be happy. But this wasn't a girlfriend he was making out with. It was some girl. It was always some girl. Why couldn't it be Hermione for once?_

_Because she was too damn ugly. The simple hurting truth. She was ugly. Her friends had never considered her to be beautiful, not even Ginny, who refrained from saying it by complimenting her smarts._

_In her room she had been staring at the mirror like she had done so many times. Her eyes were suspiciously watery, but through the tears she had seen a bottle of firewhiskey sticking out of Lavenders drawer. She had never drunk a drop of it, but now seemed like a good time to start. To hell with her homework. She needed comfort and chocolate sure as hell wouldn't do. This wasn't some teeny-weeny little pain she could cure with chocolate frogs and a blanket. This was the big stuff. And firewhiskey seemed like exactly the thing to help her._

_The first swig made her cough uncontrollably. What was this stuff made of? Ditchwater mixed with pure alcohol or something? Yuck...how could anyone drink this? She felt like putting the bottle away, but the consequence it would have (staying sober and mourning all day long) seemed worse than the taste of the firewhiskey. The second sip still burnt in her throat but it didn't feel half as bad as she would have thought. It made her feel numb, and numb was nice._

_Halfway through the bottle she started musing about ways to make Ron notice her. Ways to make him notice that she wasn't that little eleven-year-old-bushy-haired-know-it-all-bookwurm Granger anymore. She wanted him to see that she had grown up too, that there were qualities he must have missed. She had grown up, yes sir! She had even developed breasts though most of the times she kept hem hidden under her robe instead of flaunting them like many other girls did. Her hair wasn't really all that bushy anymore, but since she kept it in a ponytail, which after all was the most practical thing to do when working with potions and animals, nobody had noticed. But she wanted **him **to notice. She wanted him to see that she could be all he wanted if he just let her. She could be fun, outgoing, daring even. But how could she make him see that?!_

_The answer came so quickly it surprised her. Kiss Harry, something in her head said. Kiss Harry so Ron will see you are worth kissing, worth spending time on. Kiss Harry so Ron will notice how grown up you are. Kiss Harry and then Ron will be jealous. He will be angry with Harry, and he will swoop you into his arms and kiss you like there is no tomorrow._

_She sighed, closing her eyes for one moment and allowing herself to think of that perfect moment when his lips would touch hers for the first time. When Ron would wrap his arms around her, holding her like she was a secret valuable treasure that nobody else should ever touch. She could practically feel him holding her already, and it felt oh so good. Her whole body tingled, places where his hands had been felt warm and butterflies floated happily in her belly._

_Of course, if she hadn't been drunk, Hermione never would have thought of such a ridiculous action. She knew about Harry and Ginny, but somehow, the firewhiskey had washed away all memories. She just knew there was Ron, there was Harry, and there was her. And she wanted Ron. So she'd have to kiss Harry. In her head it made perfect sense. The wonders of firewhiskey..._

_A little while later she was on her way down to Harry, who was playing Wizards Chess in the Great Hall with Ron. She had gotten rid of her robe and was now only clad in a **very** revealing top and hiphugging jeans. She felt sexy. Sexy and daring. She was going to kiss Harry and everything would finally be perfect._

_She didn't waste any time on words, excuses, or even a simple hello. She attacked Harry's mouth like a hunter attacked his prey. Her lips were firmly pressed to his, her hands cradling his head so he couldn't back out of the kiss, and she forced her tongue into his mouth._

_Any minute now Ron would wrap his arms around her and kiss her. Any minute now. She secretly smiled into the kiss she was still giving Harry. Why did it take so long though? Why wasn't he furious? Why wasn't he screaming and attacking Harry, ordering her to let go of the girl he finally discovered he loved?_

_When she did hear screaming it wasn't coming from Ron though. It was a female's voice, screaming all sorts of insults and threats. Ron, who had been staring at the scene, practically in shock, suddenly moved as well. He pulled Hermione off of Harry, exactly like she had dreamed he would do, but instead of taking her into his arms and kissing her like she'd never been kissed before he practically threw her away._

"_What the hell do you think you're doing Granger?"_

_She sound of his voice wasn't at all like she had expected. He should have sounded nice. Sweet even. And there was no way he would call her "Granger" when he was about to kiss her, was there?_

"_And what the hell were **you** doing Harry? Making out with that bossy ugly witch?"_

_Ginny was obviously at a loss for words, Hermione thought, because she'd always come up with the best insults ever, and now she couldn't come up with anything better than bossy, ugly...hey! What did I do? _

"_You've gone too far this time...stay the hell away from Harry!"_

_Ron's eyes were beautiful like this, she noticed. Fiery, full of passion. Why couldn't he be kissing her? Had something gone wrong?_

_If she had been any less drunk she would have realised that she had just managed to destroy everything. She had hurted her best friend Ginny, had destroyed her relationship by the look of it, and Ron was furious with **her** instead of Harry. Unfortunately, the firewhiskey had been a little stronger than she expected, and instead of realising what damage she had done and trying to fix it, she just watched the scene looking dumbfounded, not having a clue as to what was happening._

"_We're over Harry"_

_Ginny marched off, but not before glaring maliciously at Hermione and slapping her. Ron did the same as he hurried off to comfort his sister. Harry just looked at her. Hurt. Angry. Surprised, because things had happened he had never foreseen. Shocked, because he had just broken up with Ginny. He loved Ginny. A lot. Why had they broken up?_

_Hermione turned around, running off towards her bedroom because suddenly she felt like this had to be all a bad dream. If only she could manage to get to her bed and fall asleep the moment she would wake up everything would be alright again._

_And it was. Because the next morning, when she woke up with her head pounding, she didn't remember a thing._

**Review please!**

**A/N:** Okay this was the best I could do. I hope it was good enough. I've even managed to write the longest chapter _ever_ which means I'm really happy! Hope you are too! Please don't forget to review honestly!


	6. Chapter 6

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy. Why should I want to own Ron and Hermione when I can do stupid stuff with them like this too?

**Please read the following:**

**RainDateChick **gave me a very helpful review on which I'd like to comment: Yes Hermione did kiss Harry and I agree there is a very big difference. But, they didn't notice she was drunk, and Ginny had reasons for mistrusting Harry (in her opinion at least). Things will be explained more thoroughly in this chapter and that's why it's in Ginny's perspective.

* * *

Chapter 6:

I was never that important. To anybody really. Being the seventh baby born in our household I never got that much attention. Not that I wanted attention. I was perfectly fine playing with my dolls and my broomstick. For ten years my life was just how I imagined it would be. Peaceful, though I'm not sure that's the right word when you have Fred and George as your brothers. I was happy being who I was, where I was.

That all changed when I met the famous Harry Potter. Though I had only seen him for about a minute my head started making up crazy stories about being taken away on a broomstick, being swept of my feet by a certain very goodlooking wizard, flying into the night, away from everything I've known and cherished. I wanted him to rescue me, though from what I was not sure. I had never had these thoughts before and at first they scared me. What had happened to the completely normal completely happy Ginny Weasley? Why was I dreaming of something I hardly knew, begging him silently to change my life?

When my first year started someone started to pay attention to me. I thought it couldn't harm anybody. I just wanted to know that I was special, not simply another Weasley. I wanted someone to realise that there was something more to me than hand-me-down robes and fiery red hair. And Tom did. Tom saw in me his instrument, and however diabolical it was it felt nice to be perfect for someone for a change. I was never perfect for Harry. Oh yes he saved me, but that's just what heroes do. It doesn't matter to them who they save, as long as they get the credit they yearn for.

At least that's what I thought. As time passed and I grew to be more like a woman I started to notice people noticing me. I thought it was because of my despicable Weasley-hair which I absolutely detested, and I felt myself becoming even more insecure than I had been before. The attention I had craved ever since I had turned into a teenager became something I wasn't comfortable with. I wanted it to stop. I wanted them to stop.

In secret I was jealous at every girl Harry had ever laid eyes on. Especially Hermione. She was so funny and smart and she got to be with him every single day. I noticed the smiles she gave him, the way he looked at her when she flipped her hair back and I felt something gnawing at my heart. Why wasn't I more like her? Why wasn't I pretty and smart and funny and everything other girls seemed to be? Why couldn't the one guy that I **did** want attention from notice me?

You can imagine I couldn't understand my luck when Harry finally changed his mind. It was the summer after my third year, and he was spending it at the Burrow as usually. We had been joking around, Ron and Harry and me, playing Quidditch on our broomsticks. I had always loved playing Quidditch but had never tried for the houseteam because I didn't like people looking at me, and I probably wasn't very good at it either.

A few weeks into the holidays Ron suddenly got sick. Something to do with the garden gnomes or whatever. I noticed Harry sitting alone at the dinnertable, watching the dishes being washed like it was the most interesting thing on earth. Which it probably was at that time, with mom working in the garden, dad being at the ministery and Ron throwing up little gnomes every five seconds. I sat down next to him, smiling faintly while buttering my bread and I noticed how for the first time he seemed to smile back, really smile back, like he had seen something in me that had only just surfaced for the first time.

That afternoon we spent chasing each other on our brooms, and needless to say I got caught a lot. Not just because Harry's broom was a lot faster than my old Cleansweep, but well...I rather liked his arms around me. And mind you, he didn't seem to protest either.

It took two long days after that before we finally crossed that line. Ron was still in bed, poor guy, and Harry and I were watching the sunset, sitting on his broom together. His arms were wrapped tightly around my waist –because heaven forbid I might fall off– and I was leaning into him, feeling more at ease and at place than I could recall ever feeling before. His breath tickled my neck as he suddenly leaned in to plant a little kiss at my shoulder. I remember looking at him in which I suppose would be a very idiotic manner because he grinned and brushed a lock of that darned red hair out of my face. I still hated that awful colour until suddenly he looked at me adoringly and whispered how beautiful my hair was. Aww...well who can hate their hair after someone said something like that?

It took a few days, filled with screaming and yelling and occasionally another garden gnome escaping from Ron's mouth until everybody finally agreed with the thought of us dating. Dating! I was dating Harry Potter, the famous wizard whom every girl in the wizarding world know! It made me feel like giggling nonstop, but out of fear of looking very ridiculous and having Harry break up with me as soon as he heard the monstrous sound, I kept it inside. But secretly, at night, in my room I giggled and jubilated and jumped up and down my bed just to get rid of that excitement that bubbled up every time I thought of me dating Harry.

That too settled after a while. Time passed so quickly that after a while I was shocked to find out me and Harry had been dating for over a year. It made me insecure. What if he was growing tired of me? What if he was only staying with me because he knew I'd be devastated if we broke up?

I'd always been insecure. Always wondered whether people would like me for me and how long it would take them to find me annoying. I'd always been fighting for attention and now that I finally had everything I wanted I was deadscared of losing it again. I began to see danger everywhere. Mostly in girls he hung out with. Alicia Spinnet, that awful goodlooking Gryffindor Chaser. I had seen her looking at him, hugging him after every Quidditch match. I'd seen the look on her face, all shiny and happy. She was after him, obviously.

I got jealous after a while too. Tried to talk some sense into him, tried to make him realise that there were other girls after him that I wanted him to stay away from. He always smiled and assured me that there was no one else for him but me. But he wouldn't listen. He wouldn't listen to me when I explained to him that he needed to stay away from Hermione because she was so obviously in love with him. Come on, it was painful to see it. The way she was following him and Ron around like a lovesick puppy. The way she always seemed to find some reason to hug him or pat his leg or "accidentally" brush his hand as he borrowed her quill. We fought about that. Harry and me. We fought about Hermione. I wanted him to promise me to never leave me, and I wanted him to promise me to stay away from her. He wouldn't. He said Hermione was his friend. **Just **a friend. He said I shouldn't be so damn stubborn and jealous, said that it wasn't an attractive quality.

But well, I turned out to be right, didn't I? She was kissing him, that little slut. Dressed up like a whore, all over **my** Harry sucking his face off. One moment I was feeling triumphant, got the incredible urge to shout out "told you so" until I realised that Harry didn't seem to mind having Hermione's lips on his.

And that's when it hit me. That's when I knew. He had been cheating on me. Cheating with Hermione. That's why he never stayed away from her. That's why he never listened.

**Review please!**

**A/N:**

**quidditch7: **lol I emailed you asking for help when suddenly I got this idea. But I'd still like to know your ideas about this story though, because after Ron found out Hermione was cutting himself nothing really happened...so please mail me back with loads of ideas ;)

**To all my readers:**

I just wanted to take the time to thank each and every one of you for reading (and in some cases) reviewing this story. Reviews are definitely helpful, and it gives me great encouragement to write more. I hope you were all satisfied with this chapter and I hope you understand a little better why things happened as they did. Please leave a review with your ideas of this chapter!


	7. Chapter 7

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

_**Please read the following:**_

Due to deterioration in my wrists I can't type for very long let alone write. So updates for this story and all my others stories will probably last longer than expected. If you know other people that read my stories, please deliver them this message. Thanks!

**A/N:** Thank you soooo much **quidditch7** for helping me on my way…AGAIN!

* * *

Everybody around Hermione cheered. Red and gold scarfs were being thrown into the air and people were being hoisted up one anothers shoulders. Down on the field she could see a small figure standing there, clutching his broom with one hand and making a fist with the other. She knew the snitch was in his hand. The match was over. Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin and won the housecup for 5 years in a row. Her eyes travelled through the air, looking for another small figure who undoubtedly was still on his broomstick. Ron loved his broom. It was almost like he was addicted to flying it. Once, back in the old days when they had been friends, he had told her how amazing it felt to soar through the air without a care in the world. How free he felt. How nobody could judge him. She remembered smiling at the thought of flying a broom with him. Even though she hated brooms and flying with a passion she would have loved to experience those feelings with him.

Sighing, she made her way over to the common room. People surrounding her were shouting and singing, planning a big party she knew she wouldn't be part of. Couldn't. Everybody still loathed her. Brushing a strand of hair out of her face she noticed a tear gliding down her cheek. She wanted to be part of this school again. She wanted to have friends. Most of all she wanted Harry and Ron to forgive her for what she had done.

Yes. She knew now. After that memory, or 'dream' as she had stubbornly called it ever since, had come back to her again she had realised that everything _was_ her fault. Nobody did this to her. She had done it to herself.

Up until now she had refrained from hurting herself. She felt that she didn't deserve to feel sorry for herself, and that cutting would only lead her to wallow in her misery. She didn't deserve that. She deserved all the pain and torture that was bestowed upon her. She needed to be strong, to deal with the pain.

Walking into the commonroom she smelled the firewhiskey and immediately remembered everything over and over again. Her clothes. Her predatory walk. The way Harry's eyes had slightly largened before she had kissed him. How he tried to struggle, to push her away. How she wouldn't let him and kept kissing him, kept forcing him to kiss back until Ginny had stormed in. She remembered being smacked. The look on Ron's face, both incredulous and angry. Beyond angry. She felt all of this coming back and a stabbing pain seered through her chest.

She had gotten drunk. She had thought of such a horrible plan disregarding her friends feelings entirely. That had been the night she ruined everything. She couldn't ever fix this again.

She needed to hurt herself, punish herself for all that she had done that night. For all the other people's lives she had ruined. Hot tears streaked down her face as she ran towards the portraithole, all the while feeling someones eyes on her. Ron's eyes.

* * *

She needed to get away. To anywhere. Some place she'd be safe where no one would care about what she was doing. The prefect's bathroom! That would be perfect. She could lock the door, seal it with a spell and nobody would find her, even if (which was highly unlikely) they would come looking for her.

Falling down to the floor she hugged herself, crying. He had called her names all day again. She thought she would have been used to it by now. Ron had called her so many things in the past few months but it still stung her everytime. He had been such a caring friend and it seemed so weird to hear such harsh words from him directed towards her. She was used to hearing him call Malfoy and Parkinson names. She could deal with him cursing Snape under his breath – though she did not approve. But knowing that every one of those hurtful comments was directed at her was more than she could take. She knew the pleasure with which he had said those words.

Still feeling the need to punish herself she took her razor out of her robe. It was old, not very sharp anymore, and dried blood dulled the shine of the metal. It didn't matter. It still worked to soothe her pain, to get rid of all those guilt feelings. A few more cuts and she'd be clean again. Innocent.

She was about to drive the razor in her flesh –already craving the sweet stinging sensation – when she heard someone on the other side of the door. A soft curse when the normal unlocking spell didn't work. Soft scratching, like someone was trying to wriggle something in the lock to make it open. She held her breath, her heart racing and her hand still holding the razor firmly in place.

When the door finally opened Ron stepped inside. In his hand he held Sirius' knife, the one Harry had gotten in fifth year to open any door. He looked at her, just once, and shook his head.

"Don't do that Hermione"

She looked back at him, surprised. Did he care about her? Is that why he was here? To stop her hurting herself?

She was about to open her mouth when his look changed. It became colder, more hurtful, as if he had suddenly remembered whom he was speaking to.

"You don't deserve to feel sorry for yourself"

**Review please!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Title**: Outcast

**Summary**: Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer**: I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

* * *

Dear **Melissa**, I found your review a little rude. If you would have bothered to read the A/N as I told you to, you could have known that I have a deterioration in my wrist which makes it both very difficult and _painful_ to write. I told the readers that updates might be shorter and take longer. I've never ditched any of my stories and I don't plan on doing so now, but you could have been a little more understanding.

* * *

Hermione closed her mouth again, watching him silently for a few seconds. Her hands were trembling, tears already beginning to form in her eyes. She shook her head to get rid of the self-pity she had been feeling.

"You're right"

She said calmly, though her voice was wavering. She fixed her eyes firmly on the bathroomfloor.

"I don't deserve it. I know that now."

Ron sneered. His voice was cold when he spoke.

"Big sudden revelation then?"

She shook her head. He had every right not to believe a single word she was saying. She had destroyed the life of his sister and his best friend, and then pretended –or at least that's what they thought– to be little miss innocent.

She shook her head once again to confirm herself. Standing up she looked at him. He looked so strong. So handsome. She bit her lip, trying to stop herself from wondering, fantasizing about him. It was not like she would ever stand a chance now. Why did she suddenly realise that now more than ever she still cared about him? Why was it so important that he understood? That he cared? Why did she want him to say everything would be alright? She should hate him for what he had driven her to. The non-eating. The selfinjury.

"I didn't know"

She confessed softly, her eyes once again fixed on the tiles.

"Didn't know what?"

"About that kiss. About how insane I acted that night. God, Ron, you of all people should have known it was nothing like me to act that way! I was drunk. No"

She dismissed him when he tried to interrupt.

"I know, it was nothing like me to get drunk either. Let's just say I had my reasons okay. It's just...I was really really upset. And when I got drunk I suddenly came up with this insane plan to make everything better. All I had to do was kiss Harry and my life would be perfect again..."

She sighed.

"So you were in love with Harry and you couldn't stand it that he was happy with Gin, is that it? Wanted to break them up so you could be his new girlfriend?"

Hermione clutched her robes awkwardly. She knew it would one day come to this. She had just hoped the circumstances would be different. That they would have been friends instead of enemies. That he wouldn't start laughing the moment she admitted the truth.

"No"

She took another deep breath.

"I was in love, yes, but not with Harry."

She tried to look away, tried not to see those eyes that were fixed upon her face, drinking in her words.

"It was.….it was you. Okay? I was in love with you. And that day I saw you kissing Lavender and I just got so angry and so upset cause I wanted you to be kissing me and not some girl cause for a long time you'd been kissing everybody but me and I just felt so ugly and I just wanted to show you that I could be worth kissing too and"

She paused a moment to come up for air.

"a...and I just...didn't know what to do and then when I got drunk I just realised that when I kissed Harry you'd know that I'd be worth kissing and _yes_, I know, it was insane and totally stupid and I wish I could undo it but I can't so now everybody hates me and Ginny and Harry broke up because of me and I wish I would have known all along cause that way I wouldn't have started hurting myself cause I'd know it was my fault but because of the firewhiskey I just didn't remember a single thing and..."

She closed her mouth suddenly, realising that she had been rambling and that Ron probably looked so baffled because he didn't understand one word she'd been saying.

"You...you'd been in love with me?"

He stepped closer to her and for one second she couldn't help but thinking about those romance novels she'd been reading in which two people, after a fight, would end up making out furiously. A little butterfly unfolded his wings and fluttered slightly in her stomach as he took another step towards her.

His hand was suddenly on her cheek. She held her breath as he forced her to look at him.

"This isn't one of those stupid romance novels Hermione."

He said bitterly as she closed her eyes for one second. His thumb lightly caressed her cheek.

"Why didn't you ever say anything? Did you really think I would be that vicious and laugh at you? I thought you of all people knew me 'Mione."

_Oh how she had missed him calling her that._

"You should have told me. Or someone else. Most of the people in Gryffindor could have told you the truth. They knew that those girls were just...just that. Girls. Someone to have fun with. For a little while."

What was he saying? Could he be? No. That was impossible wasn't it? There was no way ever that he would...right? He certainly would have said...

"You were so smart. And witty. And ever since Malfoy gave you those beaver teeth and you shrunk them until they were a little shorter than before... I mean...why did you think I was jealous when Victor took up so much of your attention?"

"I was just doing that to make you...oh! Was that..."

"Yes"

He answered simply.

"Those girls were because of you. Because you never seemed to notice me unless I was doing something either illegal or just stupid, and we fought about that. Part of me needed comfort, and part of me wanted to make you jealous. I wanted a reaction. I wanted to know how you felt..."

His hand slipped down her cheek, fell numbly to his side as he took a step back.

"I liked you a lot Hermione. But now...this...everything that has happened..."

He sighed.

"Now I'm just torn between hating you and feeling sorry for you..."

**Review please!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N: **Lol, **Leigh**, your review cracked me up. Love the story so much you're dreaming about it ey? Just to reassure you: Hermione is definitely not going to commit suicide. I'm an angstwriter but I do love the happy endings. I loooove Gilmore Girls, as a matter of fact I have numerous fanfics about them too, haven't you read them? You should :P I love getting reviews ;).

**Rory:** He was touching her :). Lol, I had no idea people could read it like that! But thanks for mentioning it. Should I go back and change it?

* * *

Hermione didn't know what was more painful: him hating her or him feeling sorry for her. She did not want to be felt sorry for! She didn't deserve that! She deserved everything he threw at her, all those harsh words. She could handle those words. This she couldn't. This was so much more painful and humiliating than being called a whore. Or a slut. Or basically anything referring to her screwing the whole school.

She bit her lip, looking up at him again.

"I'm sorry"

She whispered, clutching her robes awkwardly so she wouldn't start crying in front of him. He looked at her for a long time, contemplating his words. Finally he settled on a harsh, yet softly spoken

"Sorry won't cut it 'Mione."

She nodded, tears stinging in her eyes. He was right. Sorry wasn't good enough. This betrayal, this...insanity, needed more than a simple five letter word to make things okay again. If she only knew what, though.

"I...I don't..."

He shrugged.

"I can't tell you what to do Hermione. You've got to think of something on your own. It's got to be something that will make Harry and Ginny understand, know the truth. It's got to be public and humiliating and impressive."

She looked at him eagerly, her brown eyes filled with hope.

"Will you...I mean..."

He shrugged again, taking a step back towards the door.

"I don't know Hermione. I really don't. Right now I'm on my sisters' side. I will always be on my sisters' side. So when she stops being angry with you...maybe I will too."

She nodded again. He was loyal. One of the things she admired him for. As she saw him walking towards the door she felt like there was something more she had to say. Something to make him see that she really was changing. That she wouldn't huddle up in a corner and cut herself even more.

"Thank you"

She said, suddenly feeling nervous. He looked up at her, questioningly.

"What for?"

"For trusting me to become a better person than I have been the last couple of months. For helping me. For being my friend."

His eyes darkened.

"I'm not your friend."

He had walked out the door before she could tell him that's not what she had meant. She didn't mean friends like they had been before, but it was true, he was the closest thing to a friend she had. Him walking out of there, leaving her with those harsh words and the echo of his dark eyes in her head hurt her. Made her want to hurt herself again. The wounds on her arms stung.

* * *

Nearly a week had passed and she still didn't know what to do. Ron had refrained from calling her anything insulting, instead he had merely ignored her the best he could. Which, considering they were paired both in Potions (oh she could easily understand why people _hated_ Snape now) and Charms, wasn't all that easy. She tried to ignore the glares Harry was giving them and she knew Ron rolled his eyes at her whenever she was working. Whether it was part of his façade, to leave Harry unsuspicious, or whether he was truly annoyed with her she didn't know. She pretended not to see the way he acted towards his friends, tried to pretend it didn't hurt her.

Finally, one night, as she was sitting in her room, staring at the mirror as she had done for so many days now, she came up with an idea. She had been watching herself steadily becoming more and more like the Hermione she remembered from the past. As she was seeing herself becoming fatter –she had been so skinny it had been scary!– she was wondering exactly how other people saw her. What she had wanted to hear and see if she had been one of the Gryffindors. She knew people would look down on her if she acted like nothing was wrong, but she also knew people would still hate her when she turned into a miserable piece of shit. She did not want to selfdestroy. She wanted to fight. Ron had practically told her he had been in love with her! She had to believe that there was a chance he wouldn't hate her anymore. She didn't ask for his love, his trust. She just asked for his kindness, perhaps in the distant future his friendship. His loyalty. It would be enough for her.

Taking up a piece of paper she took a deep breath and tried to ignore the burning sensation in her stomach. This would take a lot of willpower. A lot of bravery. But darn it, wasn't she sorted into Gryffindor? Wasn't she brave? She could do this! She had to. There was nothing scarier than standing in front of a big crowd, admitting the truth, but she knew it was something she would just have to live with. Ron had been right. Sorry would definitely not cut it. Harry and Ginny deserved more than a simple sorry that could be uttered so quickly. They needed to know, to understand the truth. They needed to know about her deep affection. They needed to hear that she had used them, objectified them out of pure despair. She wasn't sure if they would understand, but she would try her best to make them. And maybe...maybe she could help them getting together again, so they would know she was being truthful.

She wasn't stupid. She knew the chances of them falling in her arms – or in those of each other – were slim to none. Her admitting the truth wouldn't magically repair everything that had shattered so long ago. But it would be a first step. Towards something...something that would hopefully be better but she'd settle for a simple different too.

Standing up she watched herself in the mirror for the last time. A small smile lingered on her lips. Being Hermione Granger had sucked for a long time. Being Hermione Granger that could possibly fix everything, that held her own future in her hands...being that Hermione Granger wasn't so bad at all.

**Review please!**

**  
A/N: **I suddenly got the feeling (when rereading this) that the last paragraph sounded like an ending. I just wanted to assure you that it's not. I apologise for this being a filler chapter, but next chapter you'll see what she has come up with.


	10. Chapter 10

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary: **Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N:** Some reviewers just don't deserve an update. Fortunately for them a lot of my other readers do, which is why I'm updating. My wrists still hurt like hell, plus I've been really busy with school (exams) so things will take longer than usual. Also, recently I've seemed to develop some sort of a lovelife :P. In summation, things are very busy right now, but I do hope that you'll still read this story.

* * *

Hermione walked into the Great Hall, taking long purposeful strides. It took pretty much all her self-control not to spin around and run, but she knew she had to do this. She had to make them see. Make them understand. The first gasps had already reached her eyes long before she dared to look up. When she finally did everybody was staring at her. Everybody, including the professors and the headmaster. She took a deep breath and grabbed her wand firmly. Mumbling a spell under her breath a platform appeared in the middle of the Great Hall. She bit her lip before slowly ascending the stage.

"I'm Hermione Granger, but I guess most of you know me as the Gryffindor Slut, the Mudblood Whore or simply the girl that screwed The Golden Boy – though not literally."

She took another deep breath and glanced in the direction of Ron, who was watching her calmly. Next to him Harry was squirming uncomfortably in his chair, trying to lock eyes with Ginny who looked like she wanted to kill something. Or someone. Preferably Hermione. She couldn't blame her. Seeing her on that stage, wearing the same outfit she had worn that dreadful evening...

Looking down she realised once more that she _did_ look like a whore. Or, at least, she looked nothing like the Hermione she had been up until that evening. Though the red top accented her skin and brought out the red streaks in her hair there was nothing classy about her clothing. The black jeans she had been wearing were way too low and way too tight. As she was bringing herself down, thinking those things about herself, she didn't realise that she actually looked rather hot and sexy, and that most Hogwarts boys were wondering how she had hidden that wonderful body underneath those robes for so long, and a better question yet: why?

"I know pretty much everybody in this school hates me. This is the reason why."

She conjured up a small orb which was filled with smoke. People were whispering to each other until the smoke cleared and an all too familiar scene played out in front of them.

_"Watch out Harry, my queen is about to attack your knight"_

_  
Ron was watching the pieces moving as Hermione walked into the Great Hall. He heard the clicking of her high heels as she walked over to them, a faint shadow finally covering the Chess Board as he looked up._

"_Hello Her..."_

_He fell silent as he saw the change in her appearance. His mouth nearly fell open but he managed to shut it just in time. Hermione faintly smiled at him before turning to Harry and doing something he had never expected her to do – she kissed him._

The orb disappeared and she took a little time to organise the reactions she was getting. Some girls were whispering to each other, envy in their eyes, which was something she hadn't expected at all. Some boys seemed to have the same reaction, though they hid it better than most girls did. Almost the entire Gryffindor table was outraged however, and she saw a tear sliding down Ginny's cheek before she hid her face in her hands.

"That's not all"

She continued, a little hoarse.

"There's also a reason why I did this...though most of you don't know the real reason. Most people thought I kissed Harry because I was in love with him and I wanted him to be mine. I was in love, but not with Harry."

Another orb appeared as she closed her eyes, so she wouldn't have to see the small smiles of pity people would give her. The frowns. The harsh laughs from the Slytherins. She wanted to drown out every sound, every feeling. As she heard his voice speak in her memories she knew other people would hear him speak too. She knew people would see her romanticized take on him and she knew they would think she was crazy. If not for loving Ron Weasley, then for the way she had shown it.

_"Ron! Can't you eat properly just once?"_

_A hint of a smile was obvious in her voice and Ron just grinned at her before stuffing his mouth again._

_xxxxx_

"_Aaah!"_

_Ron cradling her in his arms. Whispering sweet nothings in her ear she couldn't even remember because she was solely focusing on his arms wrapped around her in that comforting manner._

_xxxxx_

_Kissing sounds. Ron, pressing Lavender into a wall. Moaning. More kissing._

She bit her lip once more, before opening her eyes and looking at the people she had once considered her friends.

**Review please!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N:** Been very busy with holidays and my boyfriend and didn't have so much time to update. I am truly sorry that I don't get to spend so much time online anymore but I promise that I will definitely finish all my stories!

**A/N2:** Part of this chapter is in Ginny's perspective. It might seem jumbled, confused, but you have to bear in mind that Ginny just found out how & why everything happened. So the confusy thingy is on purpose.

* * *

She smiled bravely, both fearing and anticipating the next moment. Whatever happened, it couldn't be worse than the tauntings she had had to endure the entire year. Recognition, even if it came in the form of a rejection was far better than the ghostlike life she had been forced to live.

For one second she thought that Ginny was going to smile, but when the redhead hid her eyes before storming off she realised she was wrong. A deafening silence followed. Then a chair moved, a boy got up. He looked at her; green confused eyes meeting regretful brown ones.

"Seeing that kiss from this point of view was even more disgusting...but at least you've finally had the guts to admit this whole thing was your fault."

As Harry walked out of the Great Hall to find Ginny, Hermione slowly turned her head to Ron. Many people did the same. The seconds that passed before he reacted – she started to fear he would not react at all – felt like an eternity. Then he nodded almost invisibly, before stuffing his mouth with mashed potatoes.

* * *

_Ginny's POV_

I ran. Blindly. I didn't know where I was going and I didn't care as long as I was alone. Seeing **her** kissing **him**, well it was almost as bad as the first time. I remembered thinking he'd been cheating on me. He had kissed back after all. It took Ron a few months to convince me that Harry had never been after her. That he'd only had eyes for me and that I had been downright stupid to believe anything like that. Of course, by then it had been too late to patch things up. Not to mention that I was too stubborn to even smile at him. Us playing Quidditch together didn't make that any easier. I respected him as captain and as a seeker, but as a person...well he just hadn't been as perfect as I had drawn him up in my dreams.

But that's just it, isn't it? People can't be perfect. If you expect them to be they'll only end up failing you in the end. I had to stop dreaming and realise what was in front of me. I had to accept that I too had made a mistake, had misjudged him, and I should go and talk to him. Not to see if he wanted me back, that'd be insane to expect, but well...

As I slowed down to a walking pace I wondered about Hermione. Maybe she too had made a mistake. Maybe she hadn't realised that kissing Harry would be so bad – Ron had told me she'd been drunk that evening, not that it changed anything! – and she hadn't meant to hurt us. Maybe, just maybe, she had been feeling just as bad as I had. I still disliked her, if not for the kiss she had given Harry then for the utterly idiotic manner in which she had come up to us the next morning, pretending that everything was alright. Hah, I sure showed her didn't I!

As I was lost in thought I had come to a halt in front of the Room of Requirement. Curious as to why it had appeared and what I would be shown inside, my hand reached out for the doorknob.

"Gin"

I tensed, my hand grasping air instead of metal. Why had he followed me here? Did he come to take advantage of my vulnerability? I turned around, trying to seek out his eyes to find the truth. He smiled, hesitatingly stepping towards me.

"I..."

My hand came to a rest at my side as I tried to find the right words, or any words, to tell him exactly how I felt. Problem was, I didn't know how I felt.

"I love you"

He stated simply, though it must have taken him a lot of courage to admit something like that at a time like this.

"I always have. Even when you treated me like a cheater. I just...I guess I was too proud, too stubborn..."

"Me too"

I admitted softly, my eyes starting to water again.

"I couldn't admit that it had been my fault too. That I should have trusted you."

I wasn't sure why I was suddenly blurting this out, why I had chosen this moment to speak up. Perhaps it did have something to do with Hermione admitting the truth; it did stir up many emotions, that much was sure. Part of me felt bad for acknowledging the fact that Hermione influenced me, my insides squirmed and I fought against what I was doing, saying. The other part needed to speak up. Needed to finally speak the truth. Had longed for a moment like this to come for a very long time.

**Review please!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N: **I'm thinking of disabling anonymous reviews because of the nasty comments I've been getting. If you want to flame me, or call me a disgusting bitch as **Anne** called me so kindly, at least have the guts to leave your email address behind.

**A/N2: **More of Ginny's perspective, but don't worry, I'll switch back to Hermione's soon.

* * *

His eyes lit up as I spoke these words. He stepped closer to me, reaching out his hand before letting it drop to his side, almost as if he were planning to take my hand in his. I don't know what I would have done if he had really taken my hand. Part of me wanted to touch him; wanted to be in his arms like I had been on many occasions, but I feared that doing so right now would destroy everything there was.

"Let's see what the Room of Requirement has in store for us"

I said quietly, making sure that he knew that I wanted him there. That I wanted him to be with me. We needed to talk, yes, but right now I wasn't sure what to say. The most important thing had already been said. He loved me. And I was sorry. Wait. That wasn't exactly what he was hoping to hear, right? I mean...he blurts out that he loves me and I merely acknowledge that part of it was my fault? I should have said that I loved him too! How can I be this stupid!

"I...I mean...you know...uh..."

Damn. Damn my pale skin that turned fiery red as I tried to force those words out. Damn that good-looking boy in front of me that made it so hard, especially as he was smiling at me. Smiling. Huh. Why would he be smiling if I had just turned him down, and was currently acting like an idiot with a language problem?

"You're so cute when you're confused."

"What I'm trying to say"

I started again, wondering if my second attempt would be any better than my first.

"I think I already know"

He said softly, placing a finger on my lips for a second. A very intimate second that was filled with so many emotions that I had to cast my eyes downwards. Something began to flutter in my stomach as his finger slowly brushed my lip in a caressing manner. I tried to smile, tried to regain my composure. Why did this boy still have so much effect? Well, cause I was dead crazy about him for one, that much was sure. I had tried telling myself that I was over him for the better part of last year, and one little caress just turned my whole world upside down. Guess me lying to myself doesn't make it the truth.

"I couldn't remember to forget you"

I croaked, quoting one of my all-time favourite movies. One I saw with Harry at the Muggle cinema. I felt like an idiot. Or I just am an idiot, you choose. Anyway, I felt awful and awfully good at the same time. When was the last time we had been this close? Had an actual conversation? I couldn't remember. I couldn't remember anything right now except that he used to be a terribly good kisser. Would he still be the same?

Okay. Stop now Ginny. You've been fighting with him for like, forever, and now you're thinking about kissing him? Bad idea! Very very bad idea. So what that his eyes invite me to do exactly that? So what he seems to step just a little bit closer? So what that my body reacts as his arm snakes around my waist and he pulls me close? So what that my hand suddenly touches his chest? It doesn't mean that I can just kiss him...it doesn't mean that he wants me to do that. It doesn't mean that we can just go back to where we...

Or maybe it means exactly that. Maybe his lips – that are currently touching mine in a very gentle way – want us to be together again. Maybe his tongue that darts out to meet mine is trying to persuade me to give him another chance. Maybe my hands that are firmly entangled in his hair are telling him the same thing. That we already have taken that chance. That we need to do this cause...well there's not really a good reason except for the fact that I've missed this and it feels so fucking good...

He gasps as he pulls away from me, watching me for a second like I am the most beautiful thing in the world he has ever laid eyes on. His hand still caresses my waist and I am thankful for that because I don't think I would be standing if it weren't for his support. How had we ended up like this when I had been telling myself that there would be no kissing? Was he asking himself the same thing? Did he regret this? Oh god I hope he doesn't.

And then he smiles and everything is okay. He pushes open the door to the Room of Requirement and takes the time to softly squeeze my hand before he holds the door open for me. I step inside, looking around to find a clue why we're here. There's a big videoscreen and a huge soft red couch. I look questioningly at Harry but he shakes his head, telling me that he too has no idea what's in store.

I sit down on the couch, leaving enough room for Harry so that he doesn't have to sit close to me if he doesn't want to. He sits down next to me, hesitates for a second, but then puts his arm around me and holds me close, whispering something like that he has missed me quite long enough and that he doesn't want to feel that distance between us anymore. I agree and my hand somehow ends up on his leg as we watch the screen curiously.

Hermione shows up. I feel Harry flinch beside me and I'm not too happy either. What's this? More tricks? More of her 'look how pathetic I am please feel sorry for me'? I really don't want this right now. I want to cuddle up with Harry and fall asleep in his arms and…but well I guess we can't now, can we?

The Hermione that shows up is dressed the way I used to know her. Robes, her hair in a plaid, no make-up. Her face isn't quite as pale and skinny as it is now. I wonder why I haven't noticed that before. Harry obviously notices the same, because his eyes kinda squint which they always do when he's worried about someone. My hand caresses his leg.

Hermione is looking at something. She's walking in the hallway, passing something and her eyes narrow. I almost feel sorry for her when I see what she's looking at. I see tears glistening in her eyes as she hurries past.

Next scene. Hermione sitting on her bed. She has a bottle of firewhiskey in her hand. Guess that's the night she ended up drunk and kissing Harry. I feel a little uneasy, not quite sure that I do want to see this again. I know myself; I'll probably start feeling sorry for her. Somehow I don't think that's too good an idea.

Instead of seeing the Great Hall, when the scene skips we end up the next morning. Hermione is lying on her bed, still dressed in those awful clothes, and with the firewhiskey clutched in her hands. I guess she's been drinking even after kissing Harry. Suddenly someone else enters the room. Lavender. She watches Hermione with a mingle of pity and disgust in her eyes.

"You'll never have him Hermione"

She whispers softly and I think she's talking about Harry until she speaks again.

"Ron is mine. I'll have to make him stop thinking about you. I'll have to."

She waves her wand and I'm thinking that she's like...hexing Hermione or something, but then I see her clothes changing back to the robes she's been wearing all the time. Her lipstick vanishes and the bottles of firewhiskey dissapear as well. Lavender watches the scene for another moment, smiling faintly.

"You won't remember a thing. I'm sorry."

She waves her wand another time, not looking like she's sorry at all.

**Review please!**

**A/N: **I just wanted to thank all the reviewers who have said that they liked my story or who have mentioned that I have helped them somehow. I'm so glad that this story actually does something to you. And I just wish each and every one of you so much happiness!


	13. Chapter 13

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N: **Ok Ok you got me. Thanks to a lot of pleading I **won't** disable anonymous reviews. The good reviews definitely outdo the bad ones anyway. Sorry that I haven't updated in forever, I've been operated on my wrist for like...the sixth time or whatever. So, I can't type, which sucks cause I love writing this story. Sorry for the shortness of this chapter!

* * *

I don't know what is happening to me. I don't know why. People are whispering behind my back, I am used to that. But something is different. The atmosphere is less...hostile. I get smiles. Do you know how weird it is to see someone smile at you when you've been treated like crap for over a year? Let's just say it is very very strange. And it makes me wonder. Wonder what is going on. If they're playing some kind of joke at me. If they're just doing this to make me feel accepted again so they can dump me in the end. It feels like it, though maybe people would say that I don't give them enough credit. Well, if your so-called friends dump you, you don't really keep trusting them, now do you?

It's strange, walking through the halls without getting into trouble. Well, Malfoy has called me some stupid insult, but that's just all in a days' work isn't it? Strange thing is, I was pretty sure a voice – Ginny's voice – told him to shut up. Ginny! The person who told me to drop dead, quite literally.

I wasn't really sure what I had expected to happen after my grand confession, but it surely wasn't this. People are acting so nice towards me that it feels like they really mean it. Yet I'm sure they can't be. I don't know how to deal with this. There's only one way I know.

Hide. Shy away. To my room, where I feel safe and not so self-conscious. To my oversized clothes that hide my skeleton-like figure. To my razor that ironically enough takes the pain away.

Yes, it is weak, I know, but I am so confused. And it is so easy. So damn easy to drive that razor into my arms and temporarily forget the world around me. Just watching that blood welling up in the harsh cuts makes my day better. Not so confusing. At least when I am cutting I know what I am doing – supposed to do – and who I am. Hermione Granger. A pathetic witch. A boyfriend stealer. A good for nothing loser. I have been that person for so long that it is difficult to let go of and become someone else. Too difficult.

I know that if Ron finds out – or rather, _when_ he finds out – he'll ignore me again. He made me promise not to hurt myself anymore. That was about the only thing he had said to me, apart from a few short hellos and see-you-laters. Of course I had promised him, and of course I had broken that promise. To be honest, I don't know if I would mind him ignoring me. See, thing is, it would be easier. I wouldn't have to worry about the future – for I had none. Not with Ron anyway. Now that he talked to me again, if you could call it that, my heart started thinking and hoping...maybe he would love me again...maybe we'd be together...

The prospect of such beautiful things scared me, much like flying had. I knew that if I eventually would take off I'd love it, love the view, the feel of being free, but I was too scared to take the first step. I am in love with Ron but too scared to even think of being more than acquaintances or perhaps one day friends again. So yes, not talking to him would definitely be easier.

* * *

"Hey Hermione"

"Hi Lavender"

I greeted. I had always found Lavender rather nice. She had never been as mean to me as the other Gryffindors had. And when she was, at least she looked like she was sorry.

"Would you..."

She started, but someone interrupted her. Harry.

"Leave her alone Lavender."

Harry grabbed my arm rather roughly and I pulled away with a gasp. How dare he!

"I can decide who to hang with on my own perfectly well thank you."

I said with a rather defiant tone, anger searing through my body. What the hell did he think he was doing?

"You don't want to 'hang' with her..."

"Trying a new smear-campaign now that I have admitted my guilt? Pathetic!"

I spat, wondering where my new-found courage came from. Maybe it was because these new rows weren't about me, about what I'd done. They didn't concern me much. And maybe it was because I tended to believe the best of people – unlike Harry, Ron or Ginny.

**Review please!**


	14. Chapter 14

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N: **It seems like the last part of chapter 13 was slightly (or a lot) confusing. Harry was trying to protect Hermione from Lavender, because they recently found out what Lavender has done to her.

**A/N2:** Since the HBP has come out things have changed drastically, and so this story is considered to be AU. Just so you know then.

**A/N3: **Mucho thanks to **avastarx** for giving me the idea for this chapter. I know it has taken me a lot of time to write it in but there it is hun! And as always, even more thanks to **quidditch7** who remains my ever-faithful reader & reviewer and has helped me on my way too many times to count. Thank you!

* * *

It would be difficult to sneak up to her room tonight. The fact that the stairs were charmed so boys couldn't go up to the girls' dormitories was the least of his problems. Ginny wouldn't understand; she had never known about his crush – being paranoid and all. Harry would understand, but would he approve? The wounds were still too fresh. Even now they knew that Hermione hadn't pretended, but really hadn't known what she had done to break up the happy couple, fact remained that she had. Lavender putting a memorycharm on their former best friend didn't undo the kiss. It just made them furious with Miss Brown.

If only Fred and George were still here. They'd know how to get to Hermione. Him, he was just thinking how difficult it was that she was never in the Common Room anymore. He was just hoping to catch her alone one day. No, Fred and George wouldn't wait for that. They'd find a way. But what if he did? What if he found a way? What did he expect to find? If she was awake she'd surely throw him out – and she'd be right to do so, after all wasn't he the one who had claimed not to be her friend? When she had opened up to him, something that must have taken a lot of courage, he had just brushed her off. After her big confession he had never really talked to her, had never admitted how proud he was and how for one second her brown eyes had made his heart skip. He had ignored her, unsure of his new yet so old feelings; wanting them to be just a momentary weakness as well as wanting to savour them. He had made her promise him not to hurt herself, yet that was the only thing she could possibly read a little love into.

It would be best if he could just forget the whole plan. He had no reason whatsoever to go see her anyway.

* * *

"Fifteen points from Gryffindor for not paying attention. I wasn't aware that you were so good in Potions you could afford to slack off Mister Weasley. In fact, I am fairly certain you have been failing miserably since your feud with Miss Granger."

Ron sighed inaudibly. He had heard less than half of what Snape had been saying the entire class. He had more important things to think about than how to make a Polyjuice Potion. After all, they had...

He shot up straight, earning a chuckle from the Slytherins and a whispered 'suck-up' from Harry. Ron grinned lazily at his best friend, happy that Harry was joking around again. Really, him and Ginny were crazy to have stayed apart so long! Yet that was not the point now. He had to get some potion. Now that he thought about it, hadn't Fred and George tried something like that earlier on? He vaguely recalled them bragging about fooling the stairs, to pull an idiotic stunt like throwing water over the Quidditch girls. Why hadn't he thought of this before? Blimey, was he really such an idiot?

* * *

"Ron?"

"Leave me alone Lavender. I know what you did."

A hand. On his arm. Pleading eyes.

"I loved you."

She admitted quietly.

"For you it was just a fling. I was just a girl. But you meant more to me. I couldn't deal with the fact that this was the end. That that kiss was all there was and would ever be. I'm not a girl who goes around kissing boys. You were my first. My only. I never meant for this to happen. I swear..."

Her eyes filled with tears. Real honest ones – unless she was an amazing actress.

"When you started fighting I assumed the memorycharm had gone wrong. So I just kept quiet. I didn't want you to hate me for what I had done. All I wanted was a chance."

A tear slipped down her cheek. Ron had wiped it away before he could stop himself. She leaned into his caress ever so slightly.

"You haven't told Hermione yet, right? Is it...is it okay if I tell her? She deserves a first shot at being angry with me..."

Lavender tried to smile bravely. Ron couldn't do anything but nod, overcome by a sudden wash of guilt, and possibly regret. He was the instigator of all this. He had kissed Lavender, half knowing – or guessing – her true feelings for him.

"I should be sorry. I knew how you felt about me. It appealed to me. It was nice to be wanted... to feel loved. You deserved better. Deserve better."

His hand still caressed her cheek, which somehow gave her the courage to softly press her lips against his for a second.

"Thank you."

She whispered, her mouth still close to his.

"I hope you and her work things through. I won't be in your way anymore, that's for sure."

This time it was a real smile, albeit a sad one. Ron smiled back, not altogether forgiving but not unpleasant either.

* * *

That evening, his luck seemed to change. After a day of getting himself into all kinds of trouble – leading to just as many detentions – he was finally on his way back to the Common Room. His detention, with Professor Binns was as boring as Binns was dead – which meant _very._

Ron yawned the password to the Fat Lady, who let him in grudgingly, muttering something about 'unmannered Weasleys who never regarded the feelings of others'. He ignored her, stepping through the portraithole with his eyes already half closed.

After sweeping his eyes over the Common Room quickly he headed for the stairs, silently scoffing himself for thinking that she would be down here. She never was. She was always in her room doing lord knows what. He wish he knew. He wish he could just go up to that room and see with his own eyes how she was doing. If she was doing homework again, maybe even smiling as her cat purred. He'd love to see that.

A soft sigh, accompanied by a muffled thud made him turn around. There she was. Lying on her back on the sofa, her stomach covered in parchment; books and quills scattered on the floor. He tilted his head a little, looking at the serene sight. Why she had decided to come down here, he didn't know. Why tonight, of all nights, when he was coming in late? But maybe she did this every night and they just didn't know. Maybe she was still drawn to the fire like she used to be in the earlier years at Hogwarts.

He smiled, thinking back on those days when everything had been all right. She had loved to sit in front of the fire, watching him and Harry play chess. Sometimes her eyes were closed and it'd be such an attractive picture. Not near perfection, but just flat out charming and pretty.

It was nice to see her looking like this again, so calm and in place. She seemed to belong there, when for an entire year she had looked out of place pretty much everywhere. She had gained a little weight too; her face didn't seem so hollow and cold anymore. The smile lingering on her lips complimented her face. God, he had missed that smile. It made him feel warm inside. Just seeing her there, looking so...relaxed. It made him realise that maybe not everything that had happened was irreversible. Maybe there was still some hope. A chance.

The sudden desire to touch that face, to reassure himself that this wasn't all some dream or delusion brought about by his fatigue, made him walk over to her. His fingers were already outstretched, just an inch from her soft skin, when she moved slightly. He pulled back quickly, careful not to make a sound. From a distance he watched her, relaxing again and sighing softly. He bit his lip, not wanting to wake her but wanting to talk to her, touch her, at the same time.

He was about to slowly tiptoe his way back to the stairs when she moved her hand and her left sleeve pulled up a little. The sight shocked him, made him feel nauseous. Fresh cuts on her pale skin. Lines, not neat like she had cut herself before, but harsh and almost angry looking; like she was trying to punish herself.

Why? Why had she done this? She had promised him! She had made him believe in a second chance! He had believed that she could be better again. That she could be like before: perfect. Not torn and frayed and messed up. She had made him believe all that, and now, with her razor, she had slashed those dreams into little pieces.

**Review please!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N:** As always, thanks to **quidditch7** for her help. And, to **thesongremainsthesame**: I know you are a hopeless romantic but you gave me the idea for this chapter (the present). I hope you don't mind I twisted your idea into something a little more...fitting.

**A/N2: **This chapter is from **Ron's** perspective. Very important!

* * *

I wanted to talk to her. Needed to talk to her. She needed to see. To understand. _I_ needed to understand. Why. How. When. I needed to understand in order to help. But I did not know how. So I did the thing that I thought made the most sense. I owled her.

Okay, so maybe it doesn't make much sense now. It did at the time. I couldn't talk to her in public. Not many people knew about her self-abuse. I guess I am the only one. I didn't want her to have to admit her secret. She had already done that once. I didn't think she could handle another time. Yet, I really **had** to talk to her. Soon. God knows what she would do if I didn't. What if it went wrong? Then I was guilty just as much as her razor was. Also, I couldn't talk to her in public because of...well just because.

I felt guilty for not wanting to talk to her in public and I kept reasoning it away by telling myself that it was for _her_ benefit. Had I always been this egocentric? Was that why I kissed those girls – kissed Lavender – knowing that I would hurt people?

God I hope she'll agree to meet me.

* * *

I sat there, waiting, wondering whether I made the right choice. She'd probably frown upon the location I had sought out. The Shrieking Shack. It had more than one reason. Nobody would come here. We'd have time and privacy. Plus, it reminded me of happier times. Hermione who was willing to fight for us and more importantly, me and Harry who fought for her. Our friendship bound us and nobody could ever separate us. As long as we were together we were invincible.

A soft crack made me look up. There she stood. In the doorway. Her brown eyes looking at me questioningly. I tried to smile. She didn't smile back. This was going to be tough.

"Sit down"

It sounded like an order. She flinched. She had every right to. What right did I have to command her? Yet she sat down. Quietly, like everything she did. It unnerved me. I opened my mouth to speak but she beat me to it:

"Why did you ask me to meet you up here? Still don't want to be seen with me?"

What could I answer to that? It was the truth after all. She seemed to think so, because she smiled rather sadly and looked around.

"It has been so long since I've been here. Remember Scabbers and...oh, of course you remember. I'm just rambling."

My hands were shaking as I took out the package that had been hidden in my robe. Could I really do this to her? Wouldn't it just lead to more self-destruction? After all, I was the cause of all of this. I had driven her to hurt her that first time. I had known as soon as I had seen those harsh cuts yesterday.

Yet I knew, I couldn't chicken out. I needed her to know. She needed to see once and for all that she was self-destructive. She needed to realise that the cutting had become an addiction. One I was willing to help her get rid of. That much I knew at least.

So I handed her the package. There was a moment of hesitance in her eyes before she accepted it. Her slender fingers started to unlace the ribbon around the package and I wished for her to give it back to me. It could be stopped now. I could take the package back and run. Run away from her and my guilt. I could go back to my old life. But it was a shallow one. Without her, everything was shallow.

"What is this?"

She questioned, holding the razors in her hand.

"What are you giving me these for?"

She tried to sound innocent, which gave me the courage to speak without stuttering or chickening out.

"Your old ones must be getting blunt, your wounds are all frayed."

Her eyes became bigger. Her hands started shaking.

"You...how did you...I mean...I'm not..."

Her lips trembled and I knew that lying was hard.

"Don't do it Hermione. Don't lie to me and destroy what is between us."

Uhoh. Wrong line. Very very wrong line. She exploded.

"What is between us? There is nothing between us Ron! That's just it, isn't it? This is all a guilt-trip! You've only invited me here because then you'll finally be able to move on and not think about me during the holidays. Well, let me tell you this: I do not need your pity Ronald Weasley. I'm better off without you!"

I swallowed, trying to lock my eyes with hers.

"You are probably right. You probably are. But you've got a problem which is my fault, and I would do anything to help you get rid of it."

"Your fault? I think you're giving yourself a bit too much credit there. You were just a crush Ron. How would you know if the self-harm hasn't started way before that?"

"It...it hasn't..."

"You can't be sure, can you? We have been drifting apart for such a long time. You wouldn't even know what was on my mind, let alone if I was hiding something."

She was right. And she left me speechless. I could do nothing but hear her shouting at me and I felt every word like a stab. Because she was right. She was totally right. I did not know her. I hadn't known her for a long time.

"I can't believe I actually wanted you to be friendly to me again. I was even so naive that I thought you invited me up here to talk and make amends, when all you wanted was to hurt me again! Not this time, Ron. I don't need you anymore. I don't need anybody anymore. I'm finally free."

She turned around and walked towards the door. I knew I had to be fast. She scared me a little, this Hermione. It sounded like she was saying goodbye, not just to me and our friendship. Not just to our future, but to any future. It made me want to throw up. She wouldn't do something to herself, would she? She couldn't. Because...this Hermione was alive. She was furious and she looked so darn pretty doing it. This was the Hermione I fell in love with. This was the Hermione I loved.

I loved her. Scratch that...I _love _her.

I jumped in front of her, blocking her way out.

"Hermione. 'Mione."

I didn't know what to say. What could I say? Would anything I ever said change this? Was it really in my power to help her? How? With what?

There were so much thoughts whirling around in my head and nothing made sense anymore. Except Hermione. Being here. By my side.

I kissed her.

**Review please!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N:** Please all read my story _Simple_. I would love to get some feedback on it! It won't be a long read, since it's only a oneshot. Please?

**A/N2: **I've got some stories authored that have only a few chapters. I won't update them for a while because I'm busy finishing off other stories. Right now, I've got 17 stories which I need to finish. So if your favourite story won't be updated for a while, please don't be offended. I will update eventually!

**A/N3:** Does anybody ever read these things anyway? Well, just in case: this chapters switches POV's a lot, but it is just a filler to get new things started.

**As always:** Thanks to every single reviewer, and most of all to **quidditch7**, she never ceases to amaze me with her ideas for this story. Thank you girl!

* * *

He let go of her. Her eyes were closed as her fingers travelled to her lips, softly grazing the texture. Her breathing was unsteady.

Ron watched her for what seemed like an eternity. He did not know what to do. What to say. Had he just managed to destroy everything even more? Would she feel more alienated because of what just happened? She probably needed a friend right now, not some guy who couldn't keep his hormones in check. Especially now, with the holidays being just a week away. What if something like this totally ruined her holiday? What if it led to only more self-abuse?

"Come to the Burrow with me."

He said, his voice sounding a little hoarse. Her eyes flew open and she gasped. His own breath nearly stopped too for a second. He hadn't planned to say this! What would Harry and Ginny think? Oh God, they would be furious! They'd totally tear him apart! He couldn't stay here and hear her answer. What if she said yes? He needed to discuss this with his friends first. If they didn't want it...well, Hermione had parents. She'd be okay. Right?

Ron grabbed the razors, looking panicked.

"I...I have...sorry."

And then he was gone. Hermione watched him leave. Her soft and confused "Ron" wasn't enough to make him turn around. He just left her there, feeling more alone than she had in a long time.

* * *

**(Hermione's POV)**

I can't believe he just did that to me. He...he kissed me. His former enemy. The girl who broke her promise. He must have seen me, asleep in the Common Room. I didn't want to fall asleep there, but I was just so tired. Of everything. And now he's asked me to spend the holidays with him. What will I answer? What should I answer?

I bet he just asked me because he wants to keep an eye on me anyway. I'm not stupid...he'll get into a _lot_ of trouble for this. Harry and Ginny won't like this _at all_. Okay so maybe technically they don't hate me that much anymore. Which, I must admit, I still find very strange. Yes, I was drunk that evening, but I still had kissed Harry. They still were allowed to be angry with me. Things were just so awkward this way. It confused me, made me feel scared. Did they know something I didn't?

What if I said yes then? It would be ridiculous to even consider it, but...what if I did? Would Ron kiss me again? No...he wouldn't hurt his little sister like that. Would he go back to ignoring me? More likely. They were all so much better off without me around. I had done enough harm already; I couldn't just go and destroy their holiday as well. It would just not do. No matter how much I wanted to spend my summer at that house (after all it definitely beat being with my overworked-only-there-when-I-was-sleeping-parents) I just couldn't do that. I wouldn't.

* * *

**(Ron's POV)**

"What?"

"You said _what_?"

Both my best friend and my little sister looked at me disbelievingly.

"Tell me I misheard that."

Ginny said with a slightly raised voice.

"Tell me you didn't just say '_I invited Hermione to spend the holidays with us at the Burrow'._"

"Why would you do such a thing?"

Harry said, backing up his girlfriend. Honestly, they were very cute as a couple, but I hated them suddenly agreeing on everything again. Though this time they were probably right. I should have thought this over, not blurted it out after a kiss. Why the hell had I kissed her in the first place anyway?

"Ron, look, I understand that you want us to patch things up and all, but..."

"It's more complicated than that Harry"

I interrupted him.

"We've done horrible things to her, and she didn't even deserve it!"

"But we didn't know that back then! I want to forgive Hermione so much Ron, I really really do, but I think things would be better if we could all have space from her a little longer."

I bit my lip, moved by the fact that my baby sister was willing to forgive the person that made her cry so much. Yet, after all, why not? She had forgiven Harry as well.

"I really do understand that, I do. It's just..."

I hesitated for a second, not sure whether this was a secret that was mine to reveal.

"She's cutting herself because of us."

* * *

**(General POV)**

"Hermione! Wait up!"

Lavender hurried to catch up with her classmate. Hermione slowed down and greeted her with a smile.

"Hi Lavender. What's up?"

"Are you heading to the library? Can I come with? I could really use some help on my Potions essay."

"Sure. I've already finished it though. What are you having trouble with?"

The two girls chatted animatedly while walking through the hallways. Hermione noticed that Lavender seemed to become more distracted and slowed down with every step they came nearer to the library.

"Lavender? Is something wrong?"

She said, her hand already pressed to the Library door.

Lavender hesitated.

"Okay, you got me. The essay was just a cover. I wanted to talk to you about Ron."

"What about him?"

Lavender looked around to see if anybody was around, then stepped closer to Hermione.

"It's just...the thing is...you've seen that kiss between us, right? Well..."

She continued after Hermione had nodded.

"I loved him. I was totally crazy about him. Just like you. And I knew, well at least I guessed, that he liked you back. So, you can imagine I was pretty heartbroken right?"

"Yes, of course. But why are you telling me this?"

"I...I did something I'm not proud of. I just recently discovered that _that_ was the reason everybody treated you like trash. The thing is...I...remember how you got drunk and kissed Harry? And how you didn't remember anything the next morning? That was my fault. I performed a memorycharm on you."

**Review please!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N: **I hope you'll all join me in a very loud **HAPPY BIRTHDAY** to **quidditch7**! She had her birthday on the 17th. And, seeing as she always manages to find time for me, this was the least I could do :)

* * *

Hermione slammed the portraithole shut with a bang. The few people present in the Common Room – which included Harry and Ginny – looked up startled. She almost ran towards them, a furious look on her face.

"You knew, didn't you? **Didn't you?** God...I should have known there was a reason why you were so nice to me all of a sudden... I can't believe he didn't tell me! Where is Ron?"

"Hermione, calm down..."

Ginny got up and tried to steer the brunette away from the crowd that was listening in on them. Hermione pulled her arm back at once.

"Don't you tell me to calm down Ginny Weasley! Harry, _shut up_."

She added as soon as she noticed Harry was about to back up his girlfriend.

"Where is Ron?"

She repeated angrily before shouting:

"Don't you think it would have been nice to tell me? You don't know how much it hurt – knowing that I ruined your lives! Do you really hate me so much that you wanted to keep me miserable?"

She felt tears appearing in her eyes.

_I'm not going to cry. They won't see me cry! They don't deserve the satisfaction of having me brought to tears._

"We know, Hermione."

Harry said gently.

"You don't know **anything**!"

"Ron's told us..."

Ginny added quietly.

Hermione looked at her two former friends. What were they talking about? Suddenly a suspicion rose to her head.

_No..._

She thought to herself,

_Ron wouldn't do that._

**Wouldn't he?**

Another voice added bitterly.

_Ron's my friend. He wouldn't betray my trust like that._

**Really? He doesn't want to be your friend Hermione. No one does. They only feel sorry for you.**

The voice said maliciously.

_NO!_

She looked around frantically, trying to find a way out, but there was no escaping her thoughts. They had been haunting her for a while now. Every time she allowed herself to think of a better future (perhaps one with Ron?) that voice entered her head and poisoned her mind. Her cutting nowadays was not so much a relief as a means to drown out that voice. If she cut hard enough, deep enough, maybe that voice would finally shut up.

She knew that the voice was right. She had no friends. Ron did not want to be her friend and neither did Harry and Ginny. They only felt sorry for her. First, because of the memorycharm Lavender had put on her. Now, because they knew.

How could he? How could he tell them and betray her like that? He should have known that it was a secret! He should have known that she would never be able to face them again. She couldn't handle this. Couldn't handle the pity in their eyes. The disappointment. It made her want to hurt herself, not like before, but in a way more final way.

Luckily, she always carried a razor around nowadays. As she ran out the Common Room, trying to find a place where she could be alone, she was already craving the final release. No more sorrow. No more pain. No more having to see them everyday wishing that everything would just stop. Why had she thought she could handle this? Why had she tried for so long? She should have done this ages ago.

"Hermione!"

He had extended his hand so quickly that she couldn't avoid him. She tried to struggle free of his grasp but he wouldn't let her. Instead he wrapped his arms firmly around her, holding her like she craved to be held once. But not now. Not like this. Not by him of all people.

"Let me go!"

She gasped, tears spilling down her cheeks.

"I can't do this anymore! I can't be here anymore! It's too much Ron...why did you have to tell them? Why did you break my trust? Do you really hate me that much? Were you trying to destroy that shell of a life I still had left? Well you did...it worked."

"I don't hate you..."

He said softly, his eyes too brimming with tears. _Why was he crying?_ She wondered as she kept looking into those beautiful orbs. She couldn't tear her gaze from him, no matter how much she struggled to. Her body had gone limp in his arms, she noticed. She was so tired of fighting. It didn't even matter anymore. Death was just in her reach, and a few more minutes wouldn't hurt.

"I **love** you..."

He stated simply.

"I don't want you to do anything stupid...that's why I want to keep an eye on you. Harry and Ginny...they wouldn't understand if I hadn't told them. I was only trying to look after you."

"You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved Ron."

She said very quietly, before adding, with a slightly less wavering voice:

"You did the one thing that made it worse. You told people my secret. I won't ever be able to face them now. You left me no choice."

"No..."

He whispered disbelievingly.

"No...don't say those things Hermione...don't stop me from saving you...you can hate me afterwards but please don't give up. I don't think I could handle that..."

"So I have to live on just for your sake?"

Her words were bitter and he shook his head.

"No. But...you don't want this. Not really. You would have done it earlier on if you really meant it. Way back when we all still hated you. You can't give up now. Not when you've got a future again."

"What future do I have Ron?"

She said disheartened.

"It's all destroyed. You're right, I should have done this ages ago."

"That's not what I said. That's not what I meant either. You do have a future 'Mione. You just have to open your eyes for it. I want to help you do that."

She shook her head sadly.

"I don't think you can Ron. I don't think me being with you will help. You were right...it _is_ an addiction. One I can't fight."

"You can fight anything Hermione! You're the brightest witch at Hogwarts!"

"Booksmarts...they won't help me now Ron... nor will knowledge of Potions and Transfiguration. I can't just transfigure myself into someone else. And if there was a potion that made me stop feeling this pain, don't you think I would have taken that already?"

A tear slid down her cheek. He cupped her face and wiped the tear away.

"You've got me to help you now. Isn't that enough? Can't that be enough for now?"

He wished there were something he could do. Inwardly he was cursing himself for his stupid behaviour. If only he hadn't told Harry and Ginny things would be fine.

No. That wasn't true. Things weren't fine. Things wouldn't be fine for a long time. And most of it was his fault. He needed to do this for so many reasons. Not just cause she deserved it...deserved to be happy, but also because he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he gave up on her.

"I'm not giving up on you Hermione. You can't force me. I **will** be there for you, should you choose to accept that. The hardest thing in this world is to live in it 'Mione. Will you give up? Are you a coward? I thought you were stronger than that. In fact, I am _sure_ you are stronger than that."

His one hand had somehow ended up holding hers. It was icy and she was trembling, though not from the cold. She stayed silent for so long that the wild and crazy thought 'maybe she's frozen' came up in his head.

"Okay"

She said with a faint voice.

"I will come to the Burrow with you."

**Review please!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N:** I **loved** the fourth movie. It was brilliant and Ron was especially cute.

**A/N:** Wow...18th chapter and they've only kissed once. This is a record. Still loving this story, girls?

* * *

Hermione looked around her bedroom once more. She wondered aloud what things would be like next year when she returned to Hogwarts for the final time. Would she be sleeping in a Girls' Dormitory again? Or maybe she'd become prefect and get her own room. What would she prefer? If things worked out well this summer...but perhaps it would be too much to ask for. Yet this was what she had been hoping for, wasn't it? A chance to prove herself a true friend and regain their trust. Wasn't this exactly what she had wanted when she had spoken up in the Great Hall? Then why was it suddenly not good enough? Why did she want, no, need more?

Ron had been right. She did not want to die. She just didn't know for sure if she wanted to live. She wasn't sure if she could deal with emotions again, having ignored them for such a long time. Her only solution to those confusing feelings was her razor, and she had given it to Ron. Her most prized possession was now in the hands of someone her head didn't trust. Her heart did. Her heart had persuaded her to give up, give in to him. She wanted to be better again. She wanted to spend summers at the Burrow like she used to do. She wanted to be able to laugh, to talk to her friends. She wanted to hold hands with Ron and allow him to lead her anywhere. She was safe with him. She needed him to be there if she wanted any chance for recovery. And he would be there. She was sure of it.

Was she? Part of her wondered...was scared that he would ignore her again. That he would not kiss her again. Part of her was scared that he would. Kiss her. She wasn't sure if she could handle that. It was too much. Too strong an emotion. Yet it was the only thing that kept her going.

Taking up her suitcase she looked around the room once more, spotting some faded stains of blood on the floor. She allowed herself one look in the mirror. She was so scared, yet her reflection showed a strong young woman. A girl with bright eyes, somehow vibrating life again. She knew that she did not look like that young woman now, but it made her feel slightly more hopeful. Maybe she could be that girl again.

* * *

"Hermione!"

Hermione had just stuffed her suitcases in a compartment when Ginny called her from a few compartments away. She looked up, half a smile on her face. Would Ginny ask her to sit with them on the ride home? She had not dared to invite herself to their circle again.

"Come."

Ginny beckoned, a look in her eyes that made it clear she wasn't sure about this either. Hermione hesitated.

"I don't know if that's smart..."

She answered quietly, though there was nothing she wanted more than to sit with them, pretending that things were all right. Fixing things, so she would no longer have to play pretend.

Ginny walked towards her and stopped a few steps from Hermione. The two girls looked at each other for the longest time. Both stayed silent. Then, suddenly, Ginny smiled.

"I don't know either..."

She said calmly.

"But if we don't try, we'll never know. Besides...isn't this the compartment Malfoy usually sits in?"

She took up Hermione's suitcase, as to make sure that she wouldn't protest anymore, and began walking back. Hermione bit her lip softly, and followed.

* * *

Things had been rather enjoyable on the ride home, except for a few tense moments when Luna had started about memorycharms. Ginny had smiled apologetically at Hermione and changed the subject to Quidditch. Unlike other times, Hermione actually joined in on the conversation, feeling that she would rather talk with them about things that didn't interest her in the slightest, than doing something for herself again. She had been alone long enough. She did not want to be alone when in a crowd.

When the train slowed down and they were about to heave their luggage from the luggage rack, Hermione pulled Ron aside slightly.

"Ron...do they know? Your parents?"

"About what?"

Ron answered seriously, looking at her.

"Our fight? I know you didn't tell them about the other thing...I mean...you didn't, right?"

He shook his head.

"They think we've been fine all year. Don't worry about it 'Mione. Things will be all right."

_I hope so_, she thought, before following them onto the platform.

* * *

A few days into their holiday Hermione was sitting in the garden, reflecting on the time she had thus far spent at the Weasleys. Things had been awkward whenever Molly and Arthur weren't around, which was most of the time. She had spent a lot of that time outside, just sitting in the garden, thinking. How was this supposed to help her in any way? Ron had talked to her once, mumbling something about how he didn't want to hurt his sister and that Ginny needed more time to come to terms with things. Only after Ginny had talked to them could they be friends. But what if Ginny never wanted to talk to her? She had invited her to the compartment, yes, but perhaps Ron had asked her to. Perhaps she just wanted to be polite, or felt guilty about the fight they'd been having all year long. Or maybe, just maybe, she wanted them to have spent a little time together before seeing her parents, so things would be civilised when in company.

As Hermione was mulling these things over she didn't hear the approach of another person. Her eyes were focused on the trees and she sat on the porch, her chin resting slightly in her hands. Suddenly that other person was sitting next to her, an arm wrapped itself around Hermione's shoulder. She looked aside. Ginny was smiling slightly, staring straight ahead. After a few seconds, Hermione turned her head back and gazed in the distance.

About an hour later Ginny stood up again. Instead of walking away immediately, she looked at Hermione until the brown-haired girl looked back up at her. Hermione didn't know what to say, yet she felt like she should say something. Just when she was about to open her mouth, Ginny spoke.

"Thanks."

Hermione watched Ginny with a puzzled look on her face. What was she saying thanks for? She felt like _she_ should have been the one to say thank you, not Ginny.

"What for?"

She asked curiously.

"For not saying anything just now. It was nice to be able to sit in companionable silence with you. I missed that."

Ginny admitted softly, before returning inside.

Hermione felt tears stinging in her eyes, yet at the same time she could not stop a smile from appearing on her face.

**Review please!**


	19. Chapter 19

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N:** I've just moved in with my boyfriend so things are terribly hectic. I will try to update at least **this** story as often as I can though.

* * *

Hermione was sitting on the porch again. This time, however, she was not lost in thought. She was watching her friends play Quidditch. They had asked her to join them and for one moment she had thought of accepting it. Then she had thought of the height, the feeling of uneasiness she experienced whenever she rode a broom, and had declined their offer. Ron had seemed a little glum, but perhaps that had just been her imagination. He seemed fine now, laughing and joking around with his friends. She longed to be up there with them.

If only she wasn't so afraid of taking risks. If only she could accept the fact that Ginny was nice to her. If only she wasn't so darn insecure, watching her own movements like a hawk, so afraid to do anything because it might just ruin things again. She tried to avoid Harry, because Ginny might get suspicious if she hung around him too much. By avoiding Harry however, he might think she did not want to be his friend. She was so confused. She wanted to talk to Ron about it, but it seemed like he avoided her as well. Why? Was he still waiting for Ginny to come to her again? Would they be able to talk? Would they _want_ to talk? Would it not just bring up more unpleasant memories?

As she was sitting there, watching them chase each other, she could not help but notice what a cute couple Harry and Ginny made. Their subtle flirting was adorable, their hands always finding each other whenever one of them flew by...it made her smile. It made her want to be in a relationship like that. Still, she wasn't sure she deserved it. Or if she could have it, for that matter. She wanted to be all tingly inside, smiling like a lunatic...she wanted the whole package. But she felt so insecure. So paranoid. She wasn't sure if she could ever trust people again. They had broken her.

Yet she was not completely broken now. She was healing. Slowly but steadily, she was healing. She did trust someone. Ron. He had allowed her time to heal, telling her that if she couldn't heal at her own pace then she would never really heal at all. She was thankful for his understanding. His trust in her. She wanted to reciprocate that trust.

Looking at her arms made her feel sick to her stomach. The scars would always remain there, a proof of her history. She could never forget. Could she forgive? Ron, for telling Harry and Ginny. Harry and Ginny for hating her. Lavender, for performing that memorycharm. Could she forgive them all? And could she forgive herself?

Her scars were becoming less visible. She had not cut in a long time. Maybe she could forgive herself.

Standing up, she waved at Ron and yelled his name. He came flying down, hovering a few feet above the ground.

"Will you teach me how to fly?"

His eyes widened slightly, and he smiled at her.

"Are you sure?"

He said, but he meant "Do you trust me?".

"Yes"

She answered, not a trace of doubt in her mind. Yes.

He helped her mount his broomstick and wrapped his arms around her. Just for safety. She felt a tingle in her stomach, one that transformed into nerves when they took off. Her hands were shaking as she placed them on the broomstick, and she was taking deep breaths. Ron pulled her slightly towards him, so her back was resting against his chest. It became even harder to breathe now, yet because of an entirely different reason. Had his chest always been this muscular? And warm? She closed her eyes, trying frantically not to blush.

"Open your eyes Hermione..."

Ron said softly after they had ascended. They were high in the air now, the porch barely visible. Hermione shook her head vividly, still holding on to the broomstick for dear life.

"Come on...you're safe."

She opened one eye warily, preparing to shut it again immediately. The view, however, made her forget about her fears almost instantly. She could see the forests. The river. A small town on the other side of the hills. Ottery St. Catchpole. A big hill, which she knew to be Stoatshead Hill. Ron had often told her about this hill. About his childhood, which he had spent here. She had walked Stoatshead Hill with him once. He had shown her his secret hiding place. She relaxed a little more, leaning into his embrace. His breath tickled her neck and she felt those butterflies again. Why had she ever hated flying? This was wonderful. It was so beautiful. So...perfect.

She felt so relaxed that the words had started coming out before she even realised she was talking.

"Did you really mean it when you said you loved me?"

Review please! 

**A/N: Sorry for the shortness of this chapter but as I said, I'm super busy!**


	20. Chapter 20

**Title:** Outcast

**Summary:** Love is like riding a broomstick. Some people are addicted to it and others just can't seem to get the hang of it.

**Disclaimer:** I own the plot, which makes me very happy.

**A/N: **Thank you all so much for your wellwishes! Things are still busy, but we're finally settling in. Did I mention I love my house? It's amazing! We've got our own kitchen and bathroom and stuff. It's just adorable. Oh and we've got a hamster too! It's just sooo cute and cuddly! Like my boyfriend :P. Lol. Anyway, I'll stop rambling about my own happy life and focus on the sad story I'm writing here :P.

* * *

"Have you gone totally crazy? How could you do that to her! How could you hurt her like that!"

Ginny was standing a few feet away from her brother, shouting as loud as she could. Ron just stood there, quietly listening to his little sisters' rant. He felt like he deserved it. How could he have been so stupid? She asked him a question. Granted, it was not an easy one to answer, but he could have at least tried. Instead of answering he had just flown down as fast as he could and mumbled something about having to pee. She had not shouted at him. She had just watched him leave, her face so beautiful and sad. He had run from her.

He had not seen Ginny fly down towards her. Had not seen the gentle way in which his sister led the crying brunette inside. He had not seen the way Harry had looked at his retreating figure. Crestfallen. Disappointed in the way Ron had reacted. Almost angry.

He looked up at Ginny, whose face matched her hair. If she hadn't been this angry with **him**, it would be almost funny. Almost. Her words kept coming and he listened to them, but they didn't register his foggy brain. Did she love him? Did she want him to love her back? Did he? He was fairly positive he still had feelings for her, and things had definitely seemed to improve. Yet was that enough? Could there...would there...should there be anything more than friendship between them?

"Don't you talk to me about hurt..."

He suddenly spat back at his sister, his voice cold and hollow.

"Who was the one that asked me to stir up the hatred? Who wanted me to hurt Hermione? That was **you** Ginny! **You** wanted that. You hated her! What changed?"

The redhead looked at him, fire in her eyes.

"Everything changed and you know it Ronald. Yes, I hated her, but that was when I thought she deserved everything we did. She didn't. So, yes, I feel guilty about what we've done. You should too! She does not deserve this."

"Healing friendships takes time!"

Ginny shook her head, her voice suddenly calm and quiet.

"Yes it does. It also takes effort and trust. Two things which you obviously lack. Who are you kidding Ron? If you don't love her...fine. Just have the courage to tell her that. She deserves that at least."

Ron held his tongue, not wanting to answer that question in her voice. How did she know he had loved her? Was it that obvious? Or had Hermione told her? Were they at that level of trust already? He felt strangely jealous. **He** wanted to be at that level. **He** wanted to know her deepest thoughts. What she was scared of. What she wanted. He had almost had that with her when they were flying his broom. Had he managed to ruin things before they even began?

* * *

"Hermione?"

"Leave me alone Ron."

Hermione sat on her bed, her face hidden behind her hair. He knew she had been crying. It was obvious in her voice. Ron smiled a little. He still could tell when she had been crying. Maybe it wasn't too late. Maybe he could win her back by listening real close. By paying attention to the little things, instead of overanalysing her words.

"I just...I mean..."

"I don't care. You answered my question. That was all I needed to know."

His eyes scanned the room, finally resting on her packed suitcase. Was she? No. She couldn't. Could she?

"You're leaving..."

He said with a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Don't act so surprised."

Her voice was cold and her eyes were distant as she finally focused them on him for the first time.

"Please...don't go. I need to...I have to..."

"You have to **what**, Ron? Keep an eye on me? Protect me so I won't hurt myself?"

"Please don't cut yourself!"

He said, louder, trying to get her to listen. She rose from her bed, emotion suddenly visible in her eyes. Sadness. Anger. Pride.

"That's all you care about isn't it! Whether or not pathetic attention-seeking Hermione is hurting herself. Well let me tell you this: I don't **need** to hurt myself anymore! Apparently **YOU** are doing it for me!"

She closed her eyes for a second.

_She is on the verge of breaking into tears._

Bit her lip.

_She wants to tell me something. She can't, because it will ruin her. She wants to stay strong._

Shook her head softly.

_If only I could reach her. Her hands are trembling when she reaches for that suitcase. Maybe she does not want to leave after all._

"'Mione...please stay."

"Why?"

Her voice was not that harsh anymore. Her façade really was crumbling. Ron knew he had to act fast if he wanted to persuade her to stay.

"Just so you can keep playing this game? It's over Ron. Harry won't forgive me, and even if he will you will always find a way, a reason, to prevent me from being happy. You can't forgive me Ron."

"You're wrong!"

He said, grabbing her hand softly.

"I...I realised something. When I ran away. Ginny comforted you. She was there for you when you needed it. She has forgiven you. Harry just stared at me reproachfully. He felt I was being too hard on you. He is forgiving you too. And I...you're right...I have stopped myself from making you happy. I wanted to, but I couldn't. I'm scared, Hermione. I won't lie to you. I'm scared of the reactions we'll get back at school. I'm scared that whenever I do something really rotten you'll start hurting yourself again. I don't want that 'Mione. I want you to be happy and like you were before. I don't want to have to be scared that I make you worse. I want to make you better."

"Look at my arm..."

Hermione rolled up her sleeves and showed him her arm. The scars were fading. There were no fresh cuts. His finger traced the outline of a line.

"I haven't cut myself in weeks Ron. I won't tell you that it's not difficult. It is. But you're there. You stopped me from hurting myself before. You can do it again. And even when we're fighting...it won't make me do it again. Not when I know that I can be me again. Not when I know that I have you."

Her eyes travelled up to his face, her hands holding his. She was searching the answer to her question in his eyes. He nodded.

"I love you Hermione."

She smiled as their lips met, tears still covering her cheeks.

"I love you too Ron."

**Review please!**

**A/N: **This is, I guess, pretty much the **ending**. I might do an epilogue, or, if I get new ideas, I might continue the story. So if you want this story to continue, please send in your ideas! Even if you think they're lame or totally besides the point: I get my ideas from strange things. Just ask **quidditch7**!


	21. Note & Prologue

Hello all! I have decided not to continue this story. However I have a new Ron/Hermione story up. It's called True Serpent. The following chapter is a short prologue of my new story.

**Title:** True Serpent

**Summary: **Shortly after sixth year, Ron changes. Trust will turn out to be fatal. How will people around him cope with his actions? And how will he?

**Disclaimer: **I own the plot.

**A/N: **This is just a very short prologue. First chapter should be up soon.

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At times I feel normal. I feel like I am myself again. Like I am not slowly going crazy. The days are cold here, and they seem as everlasting as the nights. Although people around me are screaming, I hear nothing but silence. There are no visitors, and once people leave, they'll never come back. They are doomed to lie in shallow graves, with not even a name written in the tombstones, which grow rapidly in number.

I try to remind myself of my name every day, though I do not know when one day passes into another. I need to remind myself, need to believe that I was once a good person, to stop myself from going crazy.

Ronald Bilius Weasley is my name, and I am doomed to spend the rest of my life –if you can still call it that– in Azkaban.

Why? I will tell you, though I doubt that you will believe me. My friends didn't.

I don't blame them. If it had happened to any other person I would have reacted the same way. After all, I murdered Harry Potter.


End file.
